Lilac Wine
by Nellark
Summary: Bellatrix's sixth and seventh Hogwarts years and the turmoil faced by The Black Sisters when it comes to forced, forbidden and unrequited love. Rated M for language and adult themes. Do not read if you're going to bitch about Triwizard Tournaments (because this features one) or explored sexuality, because this happens here too. A bit. With Bellatrix. Naturally.
1. Druella

_Author's Note: Dear Readers: here is a new story from me. The concept came to me in a daydream, when I imagined how the Black sisters interacted with all those around them, such as their mother and their respective partners. This will explore how this denomination of the House of Black came to be so disjointed. I hope you enjoy it. Nel X_

_oOo_

Druella Black valued peace and serenity in a family home above all else. However, they were hard to come by after bearing three lively daughters into a house. Since her older two had disappeared to Hogwarts, however, Druella had embraced the freedom that silence provided: freedom to think, freedom to focus... but every time Bellatrix and Andromeda returned for the holidays, noise and raucous behaviour would ensue.

"Gryffindor, Gryffindor, they've never had a Black before!" Druella heard one of the girls upstairs chant.

"Leave me alone!" cried another.

"Slytherin, Slytherin, they'll never let Narcissa in!" sang the third.

"Shut up!"

Druella narrowed her eyes at the ceiling of the drawing room for a long second as footsteps pounded the floor upstairs. She slammed her embroidery on the end table and hastily made her way out to the hallway and up the stairs.

"How do you suppose Cissy will fair in _Gryffindor_, Bella?"

"Very poorly indeed! After all, what snobby, proud little first year tyke would want to befriend a Black, eh?"

"I _won't_ be in Gryffindor, I _won't!"_

Druella marched down the gloomy hallway and flung open the door to her youngest daughter's room. As she did so, the three girls ceased running.

"What in Merlin's name is going on here?" asked Druella.

Bellatrix smirked. "Look what arrived for Cissy, today, Mother!"

Bellatrix held out a rather crumpled piece of paper. Druella snatched it from her hand and read it.

_"Dear Miss Black, _

_We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted-"_

_"_I see," said Druella, folding piece of paper and smoothing it out. "And you thought it would be prudent of you to go tearing around the bedroom, making a racket and terrifying your sister?"

The three of them looked at the floor.

"Well?"

"No, Mother," answered Bellatrix.

"And what do we say when we disturb Mother's silence?"

"Sorry, Mother," all three of them mumbled. Druella took a deep breath and held the letter up to look at it again. "_-at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a-"_

"Where's the list?" Druella demanded, suddenly realising that she was only holding one sheet of the letter. Andromeda tentatively brought the piece of paper round from behind her back and held it out to Druella, who grabbed it.

"It's been ripped," she said, void of all emotion. She heard one of her girls gulp.

"We were... a little too boisterous, Mother," said Andromeda.

"You don't say..." deadpanned Druella. "Right, well... if I hear any more of this absurd foolishness, you shall be sent to your Aunt Walburga's house. We don't want _that, _do we?"

The three of them looked horrified.

"No, Mother!" they chorused quickly. Druella gave a sharp nod in appreciation.

"Good," she said quietly before turning on her heels and heading back out towards the landing. "Oh, and Narcissa?"

Narcissa waited wide-eyed.

"Well done. You're to come with me in the morning to Diagon Alley. I think these two can wait a few days before buying their school equipment. It'll give them a little time to reflect on their treatment of family members."

With that, she shut the door.

As she walked back down the dark hallway to the staircase, she heard no more noise. This pleased her. However, something was ailing her. Perhaps she had not seen enough of the girls of late to have noticed before, but each of them now seemed a little... different. It was as though womanhood had finally remembered them after having left them behind. Even Narcissa, who had only just received her Hogwarts letter, looked much older than a child.

She would have to mention this to Cygnus. He would want to seize his daughters' last remnants of youth to do something honourable. Something to help sustain the legacy of his ancient family. Druella would also need to send an owl to her mother-in-law. She knew all there was to know about... _dressing girls up _for courtship. After all, she'd succeeded with Walburga, whom she'd married off safely, to a distant cousin within the noble House of Black. Perhaps she'd be able to find a way to do the same with Druella's girls. After all, this was the age to catch them at their most impressionable, and they were sure to develop into such a stubborn trio...

oOo

_A/N: Will update shortly. In the meantime, please leave a review. _


	2. Irma

The three Black sisters were sat on the lawn of their father's vast mansion on the last baking hot day of August. Narcissa had a young black cat pawing at her knee.

"You really shouldn't have bought it," said Andromeda, lying back in the daisy-flecked grass.

"And why not?" asked Narcissa, a little offended on behalf of her new feline companion.

"I just don't think it was a wise choice!" said Andromeda. Narcissa cocked her head curiously.

"What's wrong with him?" she asked, stroking the cat affectionately behind the ear. She'd been delighted that she'd been given the free choice of a pet as it was. It was a rare occasion that the girls were allowed to purchase anything without the consent of their watchful mother. As it turned out, their mother felt that she had more serious matters to be occupying herself with than the preferred animal of her daughters. So, she'd allowed Narcissa free reign of the purchases made in the menagerie.

"Dromeda, what's your problem with him?" asked Narcissa, getting a little frustrated.

Andromeda shrugged and looked down at the grass that she was toying with. "Black cats are unlucky..."

Bellatrix, who'd been dozing in the grass all this time, dragged herself up onto her elbows.

"What?! Dromeda, did you just say that cats are unlucky?! _You _have a cat!"

"Not _all _cats, just black ones! It's a known fact!"

"It's a known load of drivel! What utter nonsense..."

"I think I'll name him Pollux..." mused Narcissa, bored of the bickering. "After poor Grandfather..."

"You can't name a cat after a relative!" scoffed Bellatrix, leaning back into the long grass. "What will you do when you have children?"

"I'll think of something _original_..." Narcissa deadpanned, causing Andromeda to giggle.

"Pollux is a stupid name anyway," said Bellatrix. "It sounds rude."

"Don't let Mother hear you say that about Grandfather, she'll string you up in the attic by your hair."

The three girls fell back into silence again, with the breeze and the occasional mewing of Narcissa's cat. Narcissa was a little grateful for this long day of calm before the whirlwind of new and terrifying experiences to come at Hogwarts. Her sisters had had the advantage of being introduced to fellow first-years when they'd joined Hogwarts. Narcissa, on the other hand, would not be given such a chance.

"Bellatrix!" called their mother, interrupting Narcissa's thoughts. They all turned to the house abruptly. Their mother was standing there beside their grandmother, who looked very grave indeed.

"Oh goody..." murmured Bellatrix. She got to her feet and trudged back towards the house, leaving Andromeda and Narcissa in the grass.

"Why do you suppose Granny's here?" asked Narcissa. "What does she want with Bella?"

"I've got an idea..." said Andromeda in a low voice. "There are certain things Mother would not do without Granny's help..."

oOo

Druella's house elf lead Irma Black through the old mansion to the patio outside, where Druella had been sat waiting for the past hour. It was out of the question for her to comment upon the tardiness of her mother-in-law, so she had passed the time by watching her daughters interact with one another. It was certainly fascinating to watch after having grown up without any sisters herself. In a way, she was glad of it. She might've been a jealous child, and then where would she be?

"Thank you for coming, Irma," said Druella when the house elf squeakily announced the arrival of their guest. "I can think of no better aid in times such as these."

"Think nothing of it," said Irma, waving her hand in dismissal. "It is not a laborious call of duty if it concerns my granddaughters' futures. Now, elf, let us have some tea."

Irma Black was a terrifying woman: old, cold and wise, yet still glamorous and powerful through the scrupulous connections of the House of Black. She refused to accept anything in her life other than tradition, wealth and decorum. Subconsciously, too, she filled her world with hypocracy. For example, she claimed to be intolerant of scandal and would downright forbid any decision-making in the family that would lead to any undesirable reputations. Career paths must be approved by her, as were marriages and even new friendship circles. At the same time, however, she would leap at the chance to hear of the latest downfall of a colleague or friend. Even in her old age, she seemed to get a thrill from being the source of all gossip and would hold back her information until she had people squirming at her feet, begging her to tell all. Such a woman was not well thought of by the likes of Druella, but never the less, she was useful.

"Now tell me," Irma began. "Which of your girls concerns you the most?"

"None of them, really," admitted Druella a little uncomfortably. "I've only started to notice their... well, their age."

When Irma did not respond, she looked at her. She was staring out at the girls with a keen eye and intrigue.

"They certainly do appear more progressed in their maturity than last I saw of them," she concluded. "But you say you are not concerned with any specific child. Are you sure?"

Druella swallowed. From past experience, she knew Irma preferred her conversations to be fluid, unless interrupted by the hesitance to reveal secrets. She was impatient of people who were tongue-tied.

"Bellatrix?" Druella offered. She panicked for a second while Irma appeared to evaluate her answer. Then, she nodded.

"Indeed. How old is she now?"

"Fifteen."

"Mmm. Yes, you were right to summon me. I am not worried for Andromeda in the least. She has the more agreeable appearance of the three of them. She will barely need our assistance when it comes to suitors."

Druella considered what Irma had said for the moment. "Do you suggest that Bellatrix _does_ need help?"

"Is that not why you need me?" Irma snapped, looking sharply at her. Druella's eyes fell to the floor.

"Not entirely. I just know that... I know that you have greater connections than Cygnus and I, and I was sure you would want to be involved in the futures of your son's children."

Irma's face twitched in a moment of offence, before she turned away to look at the girls again.

"How is my son?"

"Very well. He sends his regards."

The house elf returned with a rattling tray of tea things for the ladies. Silence fell between them as Druella poured out the drinks for her and her mother-in-law.

"You mentioned my connections," Irma began after her first sip. "Since I received your owl, I have indeed been making enquiries. I've had marginal success."

Druella breathed a sigh of relief. Irma was indeed a useful ally to have. However, there was always a danger of becoming _too _involved. She often attempted to tread where she was not allowed to go, and putting her in her place was easier said than done.

"They'd better be pure Slytherin families!" said Druella firmly, after deciding it was best to initiate a tough stance in front of Irma. "I'm not having any of that muggle-born equality nonsense..."

"Oh, there'll be none of that, I can assure you," said Irma, taking another sip. "The Lestrange family have two boys. Twins. Bellatrix is a fifth year now, am I correct?"

"Yes, she is,"

"Ah, excellent! They may know each other already."

Druella looked down at her hands, hiding her expression of doubt. Although it had been many years since her Hogwarts days, she could remember the eclectic dynamics she'd had with the boys in her classes. She doubted if she'd have appreciated having one such boy as a suitor at her age. As it was, she was married to a man who'd left Hogwarts before she'd even started. That had been an agreeable pathway for all concerned.

"Yes, The Lestrange family would be a good network for young Bellatrix to marry into. They have a spare son, too. He could always be pushed towards Andromeda... or failing that, there's The Malfoy Family's boy."

"And what of Narcissa?"

"Who?"

"_Narcissa."_

Irma sighed. "It's true she has matured a little earlier than I'd expected, but I still think it is a little early for courtship, don't you agree? I know, call Bellatrix over so that I may appraise her."

"Bellatrix!" called Druella immediately. The three girls looked to her immediately. She knew they'd be wary of their Grandmother's visit. They were not terribly fond of her after all these years of her insistence of taking over discipline in their house during her visits. It seemed that the girls had been conditioned to expect caning or punishment during her stays.

"Oh, that is a _ghastly_ walk!" Irma hissed as Bellatrix approached. Druella said nothing. She was right, of course, but that may have been due to the clunkiness of Bellatrix's boots.

"What a nice surprise to see you, Granny," said Bellatrix, with all the surprise and enthusiasm of a rock.

"Likewise, my dear girl. Now, stand still,"

Bellatrix shot her mother a bewildered glance as Irma held her spectacles to her face and looked her up and down.

"The Lestrange boys," said Irma inexplicably to Bellatrix.

"What of them?"

"I'd like you to introduce yourselves to them."

Bellatrix raised an eyebrow. "I've already met them and I think they're repulsive."

Druella glowered at her daughter, who avoided looking at her.

"Their exterior characters aside, I would like you to become better acquainted with them."

"I will do no such thing!"

"BELLATRIX!" shouted Druella, rising from her seat. "How _dare_ you defy your grandmother. Have you no respect? No shame?"

"I have no respect for the Lestrange boys, Mother, and I have no shame in saying so."

"You attention-seeking little madam!" Druella spat, seething with more and more anger with every second that passed in which Bellatrix looked unmoved by her mother's insults. Irma suddenly rose from her seat with unnerving calmness and strode over to Bellatrix.

"If you care for your own happiness and for the future of this great family, you will do as I ask. I will write to Mrs Lestrange before the Christmas holidays, enquiring about a visit from either boy. If I get a refusal, you shall be severely punished. I can assure you of that."

Bellatrix would have appeared unmoved once again to a casual observer, even perhaps to Irma herself. But to Druella, she could see anger building within Bellatrix by the slightest twitch of her set jaw. Druella hid her ominous expression with a sip of tea as Bellatrix stormed off upstairs.

"You're to take her to Diagon Alley. Today. That dress is far too child-like and far too unflattering. She must look sophisticated and well-groomed if she is to make an impression among the more favourable wizarding families."

Irma reached for her cane that had been resting beside her chair. She was preparing to leave.

"Irma," began Druella nervously. "The girls are leaving for Hogwarts tomorrow morning. I doubt there'll be time for-"

"Then you'll have to make time," Irma growled. Druella almost felt winded by her words. Her glower was nothing new, but speared Druella to ground none-the-less. Irma strode back through the house, the stabbing noises of her cane on the ground echoing around the cold house. Druella would have to take Bellatrix to Diagon Alley tonight. She could hardly wait to drag a sulky teenage girl around the shops at night...

oOo

_A/N: Please leave a review X_


	3. Prewetts

"SLYTHERIN!"

The Slytherin table erupted into applause at the same time as Bellatrix Black cheered unashamedly for her sister, Cissy, who'd been appropriately placed in the only House at Hogwarts school worth a damn. Bellatrix was clever. She'd paid attention to the countless family discussions about the other houses at Hogwarts. Hufflepuff were meek and weedy in their beliefs. They'd tolerate trolls and centaurs as students if it meant they avoided being burned at the stake. Ravenclaw were where the unambitious fell. What was knowledge without the will to practice it? It was bone idleness, that's what. Personal gain for the sake of personal gain. And Gryffindor! They were down-right disrespectful in their views. _The Brave At Heart. _The brave ones who would argue with the Slytherins for their beliefs on the worth of blood status meant that they devoted their lives to proving the Slytherins to be slimy and prejudiced.

There was nothing prejudiced about the Slytherin house that Bellatrix knew. People seemed to confuse prejudice with morality. The other houses were far too forgiving.

"Welcome to Slytherin, Narcissa," greeted Jesper Goyle, Bellatrix's childhood companion. Cissy smiled bashfully at her House, who generally seemed to approve of the girls' last name. The Black family were notoriously high-profile, and it was a privilege to be accepted into their circle. A sense of pride filled Bellatrix as Cissy received admiring looks and words of congratulations.

"Sit beside me, Cissy!" hissed Bellatrix, grabbing her sister's wrist and pulling her round to sit between her and Andromeda.

"I was so nervous..." whispered Cissy as the next first year's name was called.

"Rubbish. You knew perfectly well you'd end up here," despite her harsh words, Bellatrix gave her sister a brief one-armed squeeze round the shoulders. Cissy looked delighted.

Bellatrix's attention returned to the Sorting. The blonde boy who'd come after Cissy leapt from the stool and ran to the Gryffindor table. He excitedly slid in a prepared space between some smug little fourth year girl and Fabian Prewett. It was then that Bellatrix noticed the Prewett twins glaring at her.

"What's _their _problem?" Bellatrix huffed, pointing them out her friends around them. Several of them turned around and glared back at the Gryffindor table.

"Bella, the Prewetts are as thick as inbred trolls. Their problem is themselves," droned Iago Greengrass. His comment received a low rumbling of chuckling and agreement.

"They're offending my eyesight. WHAT ARE YOU STARING AT?!" she shouted, standing up. Dozens more people turned round to stare at her. At the front, a teacher shushed her.

"Bellatrix," Andromeda warned, sounding embarrassed. Cissy tugged on her sister's robes, pulling her back down.

"Head-cases," tutted Bellatrix, straightening her robes.

"Or maybe," began Andromeda, "It has something to do with what you did earlier on the train?"

"Which was?" asked Bellatrix, unamused.

"You started bullying their sister."

"What?! When?! Which one was she?"

"The ginger one."

"Hilarious, Dromeda. _Which _ginger one? Half of Gryffindor have orange hair."

"The erm... the chubby one."

Bellatrix wrinkled her nose and scanned the Gryffindor table for anyone who rang a bell. Her eyes fell on the orange-haired fourth year that Fabian had previously been sitting next to before the first year had come and sat between them. She was fussing with her thick hair and whispering excitedly to the first year beside her.

"_Her_?!" exclaimed Bellatrix. A teacher at the front shushed her again, this time with a little more annoyance.

"Yes. Her."

"That fat little gerbil of a girl? She's related to them?!"

"You're beginning to sound complimentary of them..." warned Iago.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, I wasn't aware this was any of your _bloody business_!" she hissed. Further down the bench, she received a low chuckle. She lent up on the table and peered down the bench. A few seats away from Andromeda was a copper-haired, dimple-faced boy. Rodolphus Lestrange. The smirk from his laugh still etched in his face.

Bella fell back into her seat quickly and shielded her face with her thick black hair.

"Bella?" whispered Cissy. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing, shut up."

"You look unwell."

"I'm fine, now _shut up._"

Bellatrix felt her face burn. After her conversation she'd had with that insipid old crone that her mother so adored, she knew that the next few years at Hogwarts would be very uncomfortable indeed. It was not difficult to guess Irma Black's intentions when she requested that Bellatrix get to know the Lestrange twins. Potentially, her future husband and father of her heirs was sitting several feet away from her. She'd had very few encounters with The Lestrange twins but she knew that Rodolphus was arrogant and prone to showing off. Similarly, his brother Rabastan was a gloater. However, he was also oily and menacing. Bellatrix could at least give credit to Rodolphus for being so self-centered that he fussed greatly over his appearance.

"Zabini, April!" called McGonagall.

"SLYTHERIN!"

The small first year came tearing down the aisle to her new table, where she slipped into a seat between Jesper Goyle and Ruthie Nott, another first year. Bellatrix sensed allies being made by her sister, whose homesick fragility made her vulnerable to irrational comradeship. As mountains of food appeared before their eyes and the feast began, Cissy began chatting happily with April Zabini and Ruthie Nott. Bellatrix made a mental note to write to her mother and give her these girls' names. She'd be able to dig up more information about them and potentially spare dear Cissy from any undesirable acquaintances.

Professor Dumbledore seemed a lot more cheery than in previous years as he stepped up to the podium to deliver his first speech of the year.

"Marvellous!" he exclaimed, clapping his hands. "Now, before we begin our feast, I have a very exciting announcement to make!"

This distracted Bellatrix from her thoughts and silenced the rest of the hall.

"This year, for the first time, Hogwarts has been chosen to hold the legendary Triwizard Tournament!"

The hall erupted into shocked, confused and excited whispers. Many of the first years looked rather confused.

"And here, as a special guest to umpire the games, we have the Minister herself, Miss Millicent Bagnold!"

People clapped, entirely baffled as to what was going on, or what a Triwizard Tournament was. Andromeda seemed to have an idea, though. She was whispering the gist of the tournament to Cissy, whose eyes widened the more her sister spoke. Bellatrix turned away and saw Milicent Bagnold walk in nervously, carrying a large strangely-shaped object in her hands, covered by a blue velvet sheet.

Ravenclaw House were cheering hysterically. Bagnold blushed and smiled bashfully.

"Thank you, thank you. It is an honour to be back at Hogwarts and be greeted with such... enthusiasm."

Ravenclaw cheered again. Bellatrix sneered at them as Bagnold placed the object on the sorting stool.

"The Triwizard tournament," she began, impressive confidence and public-speaking skills appearing out of thin air. "... has not been held for centuries due to the staggering amount of injuries and, on occasion, fatalities that it brings to a school of young people. It has been reinstated after many years of adjustment and changes. This year, Hogwarts students will play host to the hopefuls of two other schools."

The hall teamed with anticipant whispers and mutterings. Bagnold lifted the blue velvet sheet from the object and the hall suddenly shone with a magical blue glow. The Triwizard cup was alive. It had a soul.

As Bagnold went on to explain the rules of application, Bellatrix lent back and allowed herself another glance at the Lestrange twins, curious as to whether either of them would be pretentious enough to put their names forward. They both stared at the cup as though it were a promiscuous young veela. Bellatrix rolled her eyes and leant forward again.

"But I must warn you..." Milicent Bagnold looked around at the now silent hall with serious intention in her eyes. "This tournament is not a game, it is a test. I beg of you, only put your name forward if you _know _that you can win. If there is any doubt in your mind as to whether you can brave any task, you will die. Is that clear?"

Dumbledore and McGonagall were watching Bagnold with fearful expressions. Bagnold sat back down on the end of the teacher's table beside a tall, skinny, dark-haired young male teacher. He was obviously new.

"Thank you, Minister! Now, may I please present our enduring guests of Norway: the students from The Miracantus Circus!"

Bellatrix rolled her eyes and looked away, hell-bent on proving her disinterest in such a charade. These games sounded so staged, so cautious and so politically=correct that it made her cringe. She remained indifferent to the green glowing light display that the Norwegian students produced from their wands.

Next were the sickeningly attractive students from the Guido De Luca school in Italy. Their display was even more cocky and self-celebratory than the first lot. Bellatrix was due for a lousy year at Hogwarts.

When Dumbledore finally conjured the food and permitted the students to eat, Bellatrix sensed her Cissy's anxiety vanish and she began chatting with the first years around her: Ruthie Nott and April Zabini. That was the one thing Bellatrix could applaud the Triwizard Tournament for: it was a superb conversation-starter. Then again, it would be all anybody would ever talk about for the entire year.

Bellatrix made a mental note to write to her mother with the names of Cissy's new friends enclosed. Druella would be able to dig up more information about their families and potentially save Cissy from any potentially disastrous acquaintances.

oOo

The feast was over in an hour. Martine Pleasance, a seventh year Slytherin, was eager to demonstrate her authority as the new Head Girl and so barked orders at her House to direct the first years safely to the common room.

"Bellatrix Black!" shouted Martine as Bellatrix began to take a detour away from the flowing stream of Slytherins. "Where do you think you're going?"

Bella rolled her eyes and turned round slowly. "I need the loo. Fancy tagging along?"

Martine scowled at her. "You're meant to be taking the first years to the common room."

"Why? I'm not a prefect."

"And we're all glad to hear it..."

"In that case, you know I'm far too irresponsible to be taking the first years for walkies."

She turned back round and walked off, victoriously listening to her friends jeering at Martine.

Truth be told, this was one of the few aspects of Bellatrix's life that she was ashamed of: sneaking around, hidden behind a guise of confidence, to see her secret friend. The word alone made her shudder. _Friend_ was so mundane for their relationship. They went deeper than that. They were... companions? Merlin, even her choice of shoulder to cry on made her blush with shame. A Ravenclaw? Was that honestly the best she could do? It was probably for the best that her grandmother was busy sewing extra material onto the Black tapestry for her. She'd never find a suitable husband on her own.

"Oi, Black!" called a voice from behind her. Bellatrix groaned loudly and turned around. She knew it wasn't Martine anymore. This voice was male.

An infestation of Gryffindors stood in a clump at the other end of the corridor, all glaring at her. They were headed by Fabian and Gideon Prewett.

"Can I help you?" asked Bellatrix, sounding deliberately bored.

The twins approached her angrily. Gideon was tugging their red-faced sister along behind him by the wrist.

"We were going to try hard this year," began Fabian.

"Aw, did the self-esteem die when the Italian stallions sauntered in?"

Fabian rolled his eyes. "We were going to try hard to put up with you and your vile gang of letches. However, you've let us down pretty quickly."

"Shucks, boys. You know, I make it a rule of mine never to set my expectations too high-"

"We saw that you have another younger sister at Hogwarts now. You must be very worried for her."

Bellatrix balked and blinked, stunned. "My dear orange peers, did mine ears deceive me or did I just hear a threat escape your lips?"

"No," said Gideon quickly, while his twin shifted his weight uncomfortably. "We're just surprised that you could be so cruel to _our _younger sister when you know what would happen if we were to do the same to yours."

"Go nowhere near my sister," warned Bellatrix.

"Stop being evasive," ordered Gideon. "and apologize to Molly."

"'scuse me?"

"You heard us. Say you're sorry."

"You're sorry."

"_Bellatrix..._"

"Fine!" she snapped. She looked squarely at Molly Prewett, who was short and timid. She almost shrinked as Bellatrix leant down so that her face was mere inches from hers. "Little Molly Prewett, I am very sorry for calling you a fat little gerbil."

Molly inhaled and smile uncomfortably. "That's alright."

"Were you upset?"

Molly shrugged. "Yes, a bit."

"Aw... were you embarrassed?"

Molly went bright red and nodded.

"Does your appearance bother you, then? Does it eat you up?"

Bellatrix was suddenly dragged backwards by the collar of her robes and shoved well away from the teary-eyed Prewett girl.

Fabian was in her face like a demon. "I should hex you right here and now, in front of everyone."

"Aw, ginger nut, I'm flattered, but I'm just not ready for that yet!

"Get lost, Black."

"M'kay."

Bellatrix sauntered away in pursuit of the astronomy tower. It was never occupied on the first day back after a long holiday. People were always gossiping away in their dorms like the superficial, two-faced gargoyles that the majority of students here were.

The astronomy tower was very high up. Damn her lack of exercise over the holidays.

By the time she was at the top, she was exhausted.

"Bella?" called a voice.

"It's me," she replied in a wheeze. "Where are you?"

Lucy Macmillan, the shy and mentally-fragile sixth year, emerged from the shadows, her platinum hair glowing as brightly as the moonlight and her huge eyes practically watery at seeing Bellatrix again.

"Good summer?" Bella deadpanned, knowing full well what the answer would be.

Lucy smiled pleasantly. "I put my Mummy in hospital."

Bella raised an eyebrow. "How come?"

Lucy cocked her head to the side. "I was practicing a mobility charm. I moved her across the room, but I left two of her ribs behind."

Bella rolled her eyes and approached her friend. "You'll get yourself killed one day, you lunatic."

"Lunatics are the most imaginative people and, bizarrely, the most sympathetic."

"Whatever. Come here."

Bella wrapped her arms around Lucy and nuzzled her neck. A month stuck in a house with a mother wound up like clockwork and a ghost of a father had taken a toll on her. That was something she hadn't expected.

"How was your summer?" asked Lucy when they broke apart.

Bella looked out over the railing to the grounds. The water of the lake was choppy and sparkled.

"Very disappointing. Plus, I have something to tell you."


	4. Fogget

Andromeda Black sat in her Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom, waiting for the teacher to arrive. The room was buzzing with excitement for the arrival of the new teacher, whom many had identified as the skinny, stiff man who'd sat at the teacher's table at the Sorting. Inevitably, his agreeable appearance had caught the interests of many girls in Andromeda's class.

To pass the time, she read a letter she'd received last night.

_Andromeda, _

_ I have yet to receive news any news from your sisters besides an incoherent, rather brief letter from Narcissa informing us of her being placed in Slytherin. Please relay our congratulations to her. As you can imagine, we are immensely proud._

_ On the front page of the Daily Prophet this morning is a story detailing the strangeness of this year at Hogwarts. I trust that you and your sisters will __not__ endeavour to take part in such ridiculous charades. Those three tasks could lead to your demise or your social humiliation. I wouldn't wish either on any of my girls. _

_ Your father sends his regards, _

_ Mother. _

_ P.S. Please tell Bellatrix from me that I long to hear news of her arrival at Hogwarts. After all, this is an important year for her future. _

Andromeda's mood darkened as she stuffed the note back into her satchel. Bellatrix had made no secret that Grandma Irma and Mother were conspiring to arrange a betrothal between her and one of the Lestrange twins. As inevitable as Grandma Irma's intervention was, Andromeda knew it was only a matter of time before they would start on her. Rodolphus, the eldest Lestrange twin by mere minutes, would receive an enormous fortune and Rabastan would receive nothing. As unfair as Rabastan's circumstances were, Andromeda could not pity him. He was a vile creature and Andromeda was glad that she would at least be spared that punishment.

"How's Mummy Black?" asked Doreen Shunpike darkly. Doreen Shunpike had been Andromeda's token friend in first year. She'd been the only one brave enough to talk to Andromeda after Bellatrix had frightened all the other first years into staying well away from the Black Family. Andromeda and Doreen were an unlikely pairing. Andromeda was reserved and thoughtful while Doreen was outspoken, with vulgar language and no preamble. As the years had solidified their allegiance, Andromeda had come to perceive Doreen as a valued friend. Doreen had not made a secret of her immense disliking of Bellatrix, but Doreen was the only person to which Andromeda would confess her discomfort among her own family. The constant subtext of muggleborn-prejudice that underlined every conversation was tedious and unnerving. It forced Andromeda to be constantly aware of who she was talking to and that was no way to live.

Andromeda sighed. "Mummy Black's fine. She's just... antsy about Bella."

"Yeah? Why's that?"

Before Andromeda could respond, the classroom doors creaked open.

"Good morning, class," said an attractively low, velvety voice. "Please settle down."

Everyone spun round to get a glimpse of the new teacher. For a second, Andromeda thought that the lanky, stumbling figure carrying a pile of suitcases was the new teacher. However, the figure clumsily deposited the trunks beside the teacher's desk and stood up, revealing a Hogwarts uniform.

"Thank you, Mr Tonks," said the velvety voice again, from the shadowy corner in the back of the room. Students whirled round in their seats, unsure where to look.

Then, a slow rhythmic tapping sound echoed around the room, like a ticking grandfather clock. Andromeda watched the shadows. From within them, a tall, skinny fair-haired man emerged. He was young. Andromeda guessed him to be barely thirty, but he wore thick-framed glasses and a tweed suit and hobbled down the aisle with the help of a wooden walking stick.

In a way, he resembled Ted Tonks: fair curly hair, long neck, bony.

The new professor reached the front of the class eventually and turned round to face his students.

"My name is Archibald Fogget. I'll be the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher for the foreseeable future."

There was a gust of drawn-out sighs from the cluster of girls at the back of the room. Professor Fogget raised his eyebrows slightly. Some girls giggled. Andromeda blushed on their behalf. She caught Professor Fogget's eye and he smirked at her before turning to face the blackboard.

"Fourth year is notoriously dull for those who prefer the practical elements of this art," he explained as he began writing his name on the board. "I'm afraid I cannot be held responsible for your Repetitive Strain Injuries obtained by your excessive note-writing."

Some students groaned.

"Sir?" called a boy from the other side of the classroom.

"Yup?"

"Was you a Hufflepuff at school, Sir?"

It was Brian Peverell who'd spoken. A few of his cronies were sniggering. He too was stifling a grin.

Professor Fogget turned round. "What makes you think I was a Hufflepuff?"

Brian shrugged. "Just guessing."

Professor Fogget raised an eyebrow and put down his chalk. "I was a Slytherin, actually."

Brian Peverell's nostrils flared. Andromeda guessed he was trying hard not to roll his eyes.

"Anyway, back to the lesson. Everybody get out your textbooks and turn to page 103."

"Sir?"

"Mmm?"

Brian Peverell was persisting. Only this time, he looked a little reluctant to ask his question.

"Um, nothing. Don't worry."

Professor Fogget sighed. "Very well. Has everybody found page 103 yet?"

"Sir?"

Andromeda and Doreen gave each other bored looks as Professor Fogget groaned and faced the bunch of Slytherins again.

"What do you want?" he asked impatiently. By the way he spoke, Andromeda was under the impression that he was not comfortable with losing his temper.

This time, it had been Donald Zabini who'd spoken. Brian Peverell was sitting beside him, red in the face from having been dismissed from duty.

Donald Zabini was looking particularly daring. "Why d'you have a cane, Sir?"

"It's not a cane, it's a walking stick. I use it because I have a bad leg."

He hesitated. He looked around the room purposefully. "Any more questions?"

"Did you get injured?"

"Yes."

"How?"

Professor Fogget inhaled sharply. He gave Donald a hard stare, but still managed to reveal a small yet dangerous amount of vulnerability and sadness. He swallowed thickly.

"How are you finding life at Hogwarts, Mr Zabini? Is it how you expected it to be?"

Donald peered around the room, uncertain of the question. Many other students were doing the same thing.

"Er, yeah. It's alright."

"Proud parents? Good set of friends?"

Donald raised his head and stuck his chest out. "Yeah, of course."

Professor Fogget smiled sadly. "Then I can't possibly expect you to understand."

Donald sank back into his seat, defeated but none-the-wiser. For some reason, Professor Fogget's enigma made Andromeda like him.

"Everybody start reading page 103. Our first topic for this term is The Imperius Curse."

oOo

The tables and benches in the Great Hall has been re-arranged into bleachers at either side of the hall to make space for the Goblet of Fire. The Ravenclaws were being irritatingly smug about the suggestive hue of the room, now that it glowed an opulent blue.

Bellatrix sat languidly on the bleachers with Jesper Goyle and Iago Greengrass sat behind her, arguing about nothing that Bellatrix cared about, as usual.

"I dare you. Go on, I dare you."

"I told you, no!"

"You're too chicken," said Iago to Jesper in his snide, nasal voice that had always made Bellatrix's skin crawl.

"I bloody well am not! I'd do it in a heartbeat if there wasn't a risk of being brutally killed."

"Rumours," droned Iago. "They wouldn't let students die. You know what it's like these days, it's all political-correctness and safety laws."

Whilst they quarrelled, Bellatrix eyed the gaggle of Sixth years over in the far corner of the hall. It was mostly compromised of Gryffindors, with the Fabian and Gideon Prewett being the centre-piece of the ensemble. Their dumpy little sister, Molly, smiled gingerly around her as people made jokes. They were responsible for most of the noise and laughter in the hall. Of course, that was inevitable. Two days ago, The Prewetts both put their names into the Goblet of Fire. Now, they were the talk of the school. They were not what interested Bellatrix though. She was watching Lucy Macmillan with a keen eye. She was sat at the edge of the Prewett bubble, smiling pleasantly as everyone ignored her. Bellatrix was not entirely why, but she was feeling absurdly angry.

"I'm ten times as capable as you are, Greengrass. I just don't fancy wasting my time with such nonsense..."

"Goyle, when will you just accept that you are too bloody chicken?"

Bellatrix rolled her eyes and leant back, looking at them from upside down. "Whatever you two are droning on about, it sound very boring. Please desist."

Iago and Jesper gave each other cold stares before Jesper grabbed his school bag, yanked it open and rummaged around in it.

"Now what are you doing?" asked Iago.

Moments later, Jesper pulled out a Potions exercise book and a short, stubby pencil. "I'm doing your bloody dare."

He ripped the corner of a page in his exercise book and began scribbling something onto it.

Bellatrix leapt to her feet and whacked the pencil out of his hands with her own book. "Don't even think about it."

"Why not?" Iago scoffed as Jesper looked startled. "It'll do him some good to leave his comfort zone for a while."

"You know what? You're right, Greengrass. Tell you what, why don't I go and have a word with the Sorting Hat about getting Jesper put into Gryffindor?"

Iago and Jesper exchanged a confused look, though Jesper did look slightly relieved that Bellatrix had spoken up.

"What are you on about, Black?" asked Iago.

Bellatrix rolled her eyes. "The only people that put their names forward are the miserable little attention-seekers who have to risk violent death in order to have their picture taken for the _Daily Prophet. _Do you want to be associated with the wrong sort? Or are you content to shut your fucking trap?"

Iago flinched and remained silent. Satisfied, Bellatrix smirked and sat back down, facing the crowd of Prewett worshippers again.

"If anyone should be lost to the Triwizard Tournament, Iago, it's you. Mother's always said that the Greengrass family are notorious for... what was it... muggle sympathising?"

Jesper snorted a laugh and Bellatrix grinned.

Iago scowled at the back of her head. "Tell me, Bella, how's your Uncle Alphard? I hear he's doing just fine in muggle London..."

As her back was turned, Iago could not see Bellatrix clench her teeth. "I don't know what you're talking about, Greengrass. I don't know anybody by the name of Alphard."

Iago scoffed. "Yeah? Of course."

Bellatrix whirled round to argue, but someone ran in to the Great Hall calling her name.

"Bella! Bellatrix!"

In ran a short, skinny girl with hazel-coloured ringlets springing around her shoulders, pinned here and there in a rather pretentious way.

"Adelaide, my dear cousin!" beamed Bellatrix, not making any move to get up. "You've neglected to come and find me all week. How was your Summer?"

Adelaide Rosier was sickeningly pretty. At least, boys thought she was. She resembled a china doll in the plastic colour of her eyes and her perfectly shiny curls and her porcelain skin. It drove Bellatrix mad and it made her stomach roll. She never cared much for Cousin Adelaide, who was clingy and about as subtle as a brick when it came to climbing her way up the social ladder. She was tactless and ditzy, but she was also maliciously well-informed on gossip and was guaranteed a good place in the world when she was older.

Adelaide beamed up at Bellatrix, who hadn't noticed the timid little minion cowering behind her.

"My Summer was wonderful, actually," said Adelaide proudly. "We went to America. Daddy has some very wealthy clients over there. We stayed with them on their estate."

"Spiffing," said Bellatrix dryly. "Mine was excellent, thank you for asking. We actually saw our father at one point. Cissy even spoke to him."

Adelaide flicked her hair behind her shoulder. "You simply _must _thank your parents for me. They sent me fifty galleons on my birthday. It was so... thoughtful."

"Oh, I will."

Adelaide smirked, looking horrifically more smug. "I was ever so sorry to hear about your little predicament. I had no idea it was happening so soon. But, I'm sure you and Rodolphus will make a fine couple."

Bellatrix's eyes widened. "You're so funny, Adelaide. Really, you're hilarious."

"Bella?" hissed Jesper from beside her. "What's she talking about?"

"Maybe nothing will come of it," shrugged Adelaide. "But everybody knows that Bella and Rodolphus are as good as engaged!"

Bellatrix could feel blood burning in her cheeks. In an attempt to distract herself, she stood up and slowly approached Adelaide. She breathed slowly and loudly.

"Who is this?" she asked, pushing Adelaide aside with the back of her hand. A small girl with dark hair and glasses stared wide-eyed at Bellatrix, not saying a word.

"This is my sister," said Adelaide.

"Ah," Bellatrix acknowledged her at last. "Cassandra Rosier, yes?"

Cassandra nodded vigorously.

Bellatrix did what she always did with new acquaintances: she leaned in, inches away from their face. The face was a beautiful thing to Bellatrix; everything was there. Bravery and fear, challenge and surrender... this girl was terrified.

"I remember you at the Sorting. You're a Slytherin. You must be very proud."

Cassandra smiled weakly and nodded.

Bellatrix cocked her head to the side. "You must share a dorm with dear Cissy. Is she well?"

"Yes."

"Oh, good. Do tell her that Bellatrix remembers her from when we used to speak."

Cassandra gulped and nodded again.

"You and Adelaide can sit with me," she slithered an arm around Cassandra's shoulders. She felt the girl shudder and was about to make things very uncomfortable for the Rosiers, but the doors to the Great Hall were flung open.

The noise died, leaving nothing but the sound of footsteps echoing through the hall. A tall girl with waist-length dark hair and caramel-coloured skin sauntered towards the Goblet of Fire, her eyes trained on it as though it might disappear if she looked away. She was flanked by two other girls with similar skin-colour.

"That's Leonora de Luca," whispered Jesper from behind Bellatrix. "Her ancestors founded the Guido de Luca school thousands of years ago. Her parents are loaded."

Bellatrix watched the Italian students leave with absolutely intrigue until something caught her eye: Rodolphus and Rabastan Lestrange standing at the doors, watching Leonora with raised eyebrows.

Bellatrix scowled and slumped back down into her seat as the noise picked up again.

"Does she have a brother?" asked Bellatrix.

"No idea," shrugged Jesper. "Why?"

Bellatrix knew Rodolphus was looking at her then. It may have been the light, but he looked nervous. Bellatrix hoped it was due to the cold look she was giving him.

oOo

_A/N- Please let me know what you think in the comments. _

_Nel X_


	5. Stuns and Stairs

_Mother Dearest, _

_ Sorry for not writing sooner. I was far too busy seducing my future husband and spitting on female competitors. You know what it's like. There are too many teenage girls jumping at the chance of matrimony for the least appealing boys in the school._

_ As for this tournament, you know I'm not going to enter. Why would I? I have married life to look forward to. _

_ Narcissa has "told" me to thank you for your support. I can just picture Papa and yourself jumping for joy at the news that another of your daughters is a Slytherin. _

_ So, for the generic finishing lines: How are you? Is Papa enjoying work? Please give Granny my best wishes._

_ Lots of love,_

_ Bellatrix __Lestr __ Black. X_

Druella Black sighed heavily and folded the paper up. The intake of breath made her cough loudly. Her chest wheezed.

"Bellatrix has written to us," she said eventually, when she could finally speak.

"Mmm?"

She cleared her throat. "Bellatrix. She's sent us a letter."

Cygnus Black, whose job title was unknown but he was a notoriously important figure in a pureblood think tank, was stood at the colossal mahogany fireplace with a glass of firewhisky. He had been thus for the past hour. Druella knew full well that standing upright and looking foreboding was Cygnus' way of communicating to his wife that he was not yet old. His grey hair was not an asset to his argument.

"What does she say?"

"She's getting grumpy and pedantic about the whole thing."

Cygnus did not seem to register this. Rather, he took a big swig of his of his firewhisky and curled his lips over his teeth as it burned its way down his throat. "Oh well."

"Oh well? _Oh well?!_" Druella stood up a little too quickly. Odd. She couldn't recall drinking anything this evening. "She is being selfish, Cygnus!"

Cygnus turned round with a bemused expression on his face. "She's an adolescent, Druella, and adolescents are selfish creatures."

"She talks as though this arrangement has been easy for me..."

"Whoa!" chuckled Cygnus, putting his drink down on a nearby end table. "First of all, _you _have hardly played any part in this whatsoever."

Fury coursed through Druella's veins.

"And secondly, there has been no 'arrangement'," he spoke as though arrangements were silly childish myths. "My mother has yet to speak with The Lestranges. You talk as though they're engaged already."

"There as good as, if your mother's got anything to do with it..."

"Ah, touché..."

Cygnus picked up his drink again and walked swiftly over to the French doors. He looked out onto the vast meadows that had acted as their daughters' playground all these years.

"Conflict with Bellatrix is avoidable," he said confidently, before taking a small sip. "For once, I believe my mother has been wrong."

Druella was still angry as she spat through gritted teeth: "In what way..?"

Cygnus smiled to himself and then looked down wistfully into his glass. He swirled the liquid around. "I believe that this whole process would've been far less difficult had Bella never thought for a second that she had any choice."

Cygnus' words shattered Druella's blind fury. "What do you suggest?"

Bella doesn't need a gentle push. She needs a shove."

He put his glass down on Druella's writing desk. He strode towards the door and pulled it open. "Stop dancing around the subject. Get mother to talk to Fidelia Lestrange as soon as possible. Arrange the bloody marriage."

Druella was taken aback. She involuntarily fell back into her chez long and stifled yet another coughing fit.

"And see a healer," said her husband before leaving. "Your cough keeps waking me up in the night."

oOo

The following morning saw a strange alterations in the behaviour of the sixth year students at Hogwarts. In their Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson, the Slytherins and Gryffindors were being unseasonably civil to each other in their mutual anticipation for the arrival of Professor Fogget. If it wasn't the love-sick sighing girls that were making all the racket, it was the boys' excitement to put dangerous spells to the test. For someone so meek and reserved, Professor Fogget was surprisingly brutal in teaching the Dark Arts.

Today, for instance, Professor Fogget had booked the Great Hall to teach their morning class. They'd be practicing a spell designed to attack, and they'd be practicing on each other.

Bellatrix Black was the only person in the room who was silent. She stared straight in front of her, paralysed with a combinatory emotion of helplessness, burning anger and absolute hatred.

The words from the letter she'd received last night from her mother clouded her brain like a lethal polluted fog...

_Mark my words: freedom of choice is a lost cause for you, now. _

Bellatrix's left side was burning with a sort of hot mortification, knowing that Rodolphus and Rabastan were sitting on the other side of the aisle. She wondered if either of their parents knew about her family's intentions. Bellatrix wasn't stupid. She knew her mother was nothing but a pawn in the malicious games of the biological Black family.

She glanced over to the Lestrange twins. Both of them sat turned towards the other, looking solemn.

"Settle down, class," said a calm Professor Fogget from nowhere. It was an irritating habit of his: he always insisted on enigmatic entrances.

He emerged from the side door of the hall and hobbled in, leaning heavily on his sleek black walking stick. In his other hand was a wand that matched. At least he has some sense...

Girls swooned as he shuffled past them up the aisle. It made Bellatrix sick.

"Today, we'll be learning how to perform the Stunning Spell. It's a particular favourite of mine and can prove to be extremely useful in a duel."

Bellatrix wondered if Dumbledore was aware that the Goblet of Fire, which was still burning away in front of the teacher's desk, would be in peril for the next hour or so. It seemed like the sort of wishy-washy thing that Dumbledore would be concerned about.

"Now, who can tell me what the Stunning Spell does?"

A few unsure hands inched upwards.

"Prewett. Er, Gideon. You tell us."

"Does it knock back an opponent, Sir?"

"It does indeed. Ten points to Gryffindor."

The Prewetts and their band of merry lionhearts hissed a stifled victorious cheer. Bellatrix yawned loudly.

She could've sworn she'd seen Professor Fogget smirking.

"Now, be warned, this is no knock-back jinx. This curse will send your opponent flying into the nearest wall. In this lesson, I'll teach you to use it and how to block it. If you've ever been subject to a Stunning Spell, you'll know that they bloody hurt..."

A few students laughed along with him.

Reactions. They were pretty things, really. All sorts of reactions...

"Is that how you botched up your leg, Sir?" asked Bellatrix suddenly. She was acknowledged with the usual stunned silence of a prude class.

Professor Fogget looked at her as though he hadn't heard her. "What do you mean?"

Bellatrix rolled her eyes. "Did you get hit by a Stunning Spell, Sir? Is that why you're crippled?"

Professor Fogget blinked several times as though Bellatrix suffered from Tourette's. Somewhere in the background, her peers were scorning her for being so offensive. Little did they know, Professor Fogget's mind was racing so much, that she doubted that he'd ever been made to feel so alive.

"You can be my glamorous assistant today, Miss Black!" he smiled at her. It unnerved her how pleasant he still seemed.

"That's a bit suggestive, isn't it, Sir?"

Professor Fogget's smile did not fade. "None the less, please assist me."

"I'm not having you stun me onto my arse!"

A few chuckles escaped a few of the students, namely Jesper Goyle, who sat beside her and in her peripheral vision sat bolt upright, intrigued.

"Humour me, please, Miss Black. Just for today."

Bellatrix glared at the presumptuous teacher. He continued to smirk at her, goading her until she finally stood. She stepped out into the centre of the hall, keeping her arms folded tightly as she walked.

"Excellent. I'll need another volunteer. Prewett? How about you?"

"Oh, COME ON!" snapped Bellatrix. Professor Fogget raised his eyebrows. Bellatrix glared at the Gryffindor's patch of bleachers. Gideon Prewett had risen, ready for battle.

"Problem?" asked Professor Fogget casually.

"Yes! You seem to have forgotten that there's more than one sodding person in this class!"

Professor Fogget nodded with mock understanting. More smarmy students giggled.

"Ah, I see. Very well, then. Mister Lestrange? How about you?"

Bellatrix groaned loudly but did not protest. She was bored of this teacher and bored of this class. Rabastan Lestrange leapt to his feet and gave his brother a quick smug grin before slinking towards Bellatrix and Fogget. Bellatrix sneered at her opponent before giving the rest of the Sixth years a glance. They were all watching her with narrowed eyes, as usual.

"Small-minded saps..." she muttered to herself.

"Huh?" grunted Rabastan.

Bellatrix didn't have the strength to respond to such articulation.

When the class were settled, Professor Fogget moved to stand in front of them and, instead of raising his wand, he put it back into his waistcoat pocket. He raised up both his hands and held them out towards the huge stained glass window at the back of the hall.

Bellatrix witnessed some of the most excrutiatingly impressive magic she'd ever seen.

Fogget seemed to shake his arms once. Such a minute action caused a giant wave of translucent grey smoke to blast from his hands. The room gasped as the thick smoke poured into the room and rose up around the back wall and window to form some sort of thin cloudy barrier.

"There you go, Lestrange. That'll cushion the impact a bit. You're not in as much danger of cracking your skull now."

Rabastan's eyes widened comically. His face fell. "Sorry?" he gulped. "Am _I _being stunned?"

"Not yet, Lestrange. But you will be, in about thirty seconds."

Blood drained from Rabastan's face. Odd. Bellatrix had no idea that "turning white" could happen so quickly...

"You mean to say that _she's_ stunning _me_?!"

Some giggled. Bellatrix thought this a golden opportunity to wink at the poor boy.

"I say what I mean, Lestrange, and I mean what I say. Miss Black is going to demonstrate the Stunning Spell for the class and you are going to bravely volunteer yourself to show its effects. Is that alright with you?"

Bellatrix smiled up at Fogget in a rare moment of respect. He winked at her.

"Uh... okay..."

Bellatrix glanced at Rodolphus. He was still sat in the same position on the bleachers, looking nonplussed. Bellatrix scowled as Fogget began to explain.

"Miss Black, you are going to stun Mister Lestrange and he is going to attempt to deflect you. Do you remember our hex-deflection lesson, Mister Lestrange?"

Rabastan gulped and nodded.

"Good. I'd be worried otherwise."

Rabastan was now a sickly shade of green.

"The incantation for the Stunning Spell is _Stupefy," _ he spoke loudly to the class, who mumbled the incantation repeatedly among themselves like simpletons.

"The wand movement is a quick downwards movement to point directly at your target. Is that clear enough, Miss Black?"

"Indeed, Sir!" said Bellatrix excitedly. The concept of stunning her greasy, malicious opponent was delicious. She would never get this chance again. At least, there would never be consequences again...

"After three. One... two..."

_"STUPEFY!" _ Bellatrix roared. As she snapped her wand down dramatically to point viciously at Rabastan, she lunged forward and jabbed her wand in his direction. He was flung backwards into the conjured wall of smoke and thudded against it. He slid down to the floor like a snowball down a window.

Bellatrix felt as light a feather.

When she turned round, her audience wore mixed emotions. Some were scared, others were disturbed. Some stared at her as though she were completely deranged. Others, like Fabian and Gideon Prewett, merely scowled at her.

"Well... I should say that we just witnessed an... _accurate _portrayal of the effects of the Stunning Spell!" said Fogget. "Your homework is to write two rolls of parchment on the characteristics of The Stunning Spell. Mister Lestrange?"

Rabastan, who lay crumpled in a heap on the floor, groaned pathetically.

"Mister Lestrange, might I suggest that you re-read the chapters on hex-deflection? I'm sure it explains that the spell does require you to have your wand about you."

Rodolphus shuffled past Bellatrix and Fogget to pick up his brother and dust him off. Rabastan slumped against Rodolphus as he dragged him out towards the door.

"Let's go and find Madame Pomfrey..." murmured Rodolphus. As he past Bellatrix, he glared at her while whispering "_freak..._"

_Same to you, my darling._.. she thought dryly.

"Miss Black..." began Professor Fogget once the Lestrange boys were out of the room. "Your wand work. It's very... distinctive."

Bellatrix raised an eyebrow and folded her arms again. "Is that a problem?"

Fogget chuckled. "Don't get defensive, Miss Black. It was a compliment. I was impressed."

"...oh?"

"Yes. You have a natural talent for Stunning."

Bellatrix smirked. "Well, I do try."

"I mean it. You fair greatly in this class."

Bellatrix tried her best not to look remotely flattered. She kept her eyes focused on the door behind him.

"I have to go," she said at last. "Things to do, people to see, that sort of thing..."

She strode past him towards the door.

"Bellatrix!"

She whirled round. He smiled at her. "Keep up the hard work."

She nodded curtly and left the room, his odd-sounding choice of words buzzing around in her mind like wrackspurts, or whatever it was that Lucy Macmillan blamed for her calamity.

oOo

It was the last time that the corridors of Hogwarts School would not be rife with competition for the rest of the year. The staircases were empty except for a lingering few. Everyone else was in the Great Hall, watching the last few floating contestants put their names into the Goblet of Fire.

Andromeda sat on one of the stationary staircases, a book on her lap. She was safe in the knowledge that her sister Narcissa, who danced around on the stairs in front of her, was uninterested in literature and would not ask what the book was about.

"Ruthie says that the Ministry fix the tasks to favour pure-blood champions. Is that true?"

"No, Cissy."

"You don't _know_ that."

"It's highly unlikely. It's a big waste of money for the Ministry."

"_Exactly_!" exclaimed Narcissa. "They've put on this huge tournament and they've spend thousands of galleons on it. Why not get something in return?"

Andromeda rolled her eyes. "Don't you think it's a bit excessive? If the Ministry wanted to kill a muggle-born, they'd have just cursed them in their own home."

Narcissa sighed. "I'd have killed off the muggle-born champions if I was the Minister of Magic."

"Yes well you're not. So there."

Andromeda disliked being snappy with her sister. Listening to Narcissa speak ill of muggle-borns was an ugly reminder of the infectious nature of her parents' prejudice. By some miracle of nature, Andromeda had been blessed with an open mind. Ironically, the one curse of her life was fascination with the forbidden.

"What's that?" mused Andromeda, squinting at the long, thin black object on the bottom step of the staircase. Narcissa stopped dancing around.

Andromeda stood up and skipped down the stairs. She picked up the object. It was small and light. One end of it was pointed and silver.

"Is that a wand?" asked Narcissa. "How stupid can a person be to lose their wand?"

"For Merlin's sake, Cissy, does it _look_ like a wand?"

Andromeda showed the object to Narcissa, who examined it with indifference. "It's probably just a piece of junk. Clutter. I bet it belongs to Dumbledore."

Andromeda smirked. "You talk as though you know him."

"Of course I do. Everybody knows he makes weird things and collects stupid stuff. I bet it's his. I dare you to take it back to him!"

"No!"

"I dare you! Go on!"

"Narcissa-"

A figure suddenly appeared very quickly on the top of their staircase. Red and out of breath, Ted Tonks noticed the girls and stopped in his tracks.

"Oh, there it is!" he wheezed, coming down a couple of steps. "I must've dropped it on my way up to the common room."

Neither of the girls moved. They merely stared at him.

Ted looked confused. "May I have that back, please?"

Narcissa and Andromeda exchanged shocked looks. It was not every day that anybody less than an acquaintance of the Black family spoke to the girls with anything less than hatred and coldness.

"Andromeda? _Hello?_"

"Er... you want this?" she held up the thin black object.

Ted nodded. "It's mine. Can I have it back?"

Andromeda looked down at it. It looked ever so funny and peculiar.

"No!" Narcissa snapped suddenly. "Andromeda found it. It's hers now."

Ted furrowed his eyebrows and came down another two steps. "No... it's mine. I'd like it back, thanks."

He held out his hand.

Andromeda clutched the object. "No, Narcissa's right. It's mine! I found it!"

Ted looked baffled. "Are you deaf? Give it here!"

"No!" exclaimed Andromeda. The more the muggle-born demanded for it back, the more she wanted to keep it. Only, she'd never admit it to Narcissa...

"I said give that back! It's mine! I dropped it!"

Andromeda looked at the object again. "What is it?"

Ted gave an exasperated sigh. "It's a pen."

"A what?"

"A pen. A bloody ball-point pen and _it's mine._"

"What's a pen? What does it do?"

Ted clenched his teeth. "It writes."

Andromeda tried her best to conceal her intrigue. A pen? A stick that writes?

"Like... like a quill?" she asked.

Ted sighed again. "Yes, but you don't need any ink. Now GIVE IT HERE!"

Ted dashed down the stairs towards them. Without thinking, Andromeda spun on her heels and charged down the corridor that she now faced, her book in one hand and the pen in the other. Narcissa kept up with her well enough.

"You lying simpleton!" Narcissa shouted as they turned the corridor, Ted Tonks hot on their heels. "People can't write without ink! _Especially_ muggles!"

Before long, Ted was red and wheezing again. He slowed to a halt just as Andromeda and Narcissa ran down the stairs to the dungeons. He was shouting incoherently behind them.

"Stupid jumped-up mudblood..." growled Narcissa. "Mummy was right: they're all arrogant and disrespectful." They descended another small flight of stone steps and turned a corner, relieved to see the dark passageway that lead to the Slytherin common room. "There's this one mudblood, Robbie Wyke in Gryffindor, and he told me that he was thought he was better than me at Potions, and-"

"Go away, Cissy," said Andromeda as they reached the portrait.

"...what?"

"_Salazar,"_ Andromeda told the portrait, who groaned and swung open. They clambered in to the near empty Slytherin common room, which was cold and prone to echoes.

"I told you to go away," said Andromeda.

"Why?"

"Because I said so. Please, just don't follow me. Go and find Ruthie or something."

Andromeda walked quickly round the sitting area to the spiral staircase that lead up to the dormitories.

"Hang on a minute!" called Narcissa, rushing after her. "What's your problem? What did I do?"

Andromeda sighed. "Nothing, Cissy, just... go away."

As she began to ascend the stairs, Narcissa lurched forward and grabbed her hand. Andromeda spun around, astonished at her sister's nerve.

"Is this because of that mudblood? Why do you even care?"

"You know, you were quite rude to him."

Andromeda regretted the words as soon as she spoke them. Narcissa stared at her in disgust, as though she'd spat in her face.

"Excuse me?" hissed Narcissa. "Since when did we accomodate for the well-beings of mudbloods? Since when did we give a damn?!"

"You should stop using that word, too," Andromeda snapped. "It'll get you into trouble."

"You can't tell me what to do!"

"Oh, what, and Bellatrix can?!"

Narcissa went bright red and clenched her teeth. "That's different."

"I'm going to bed."

"Wait!"

Andromeda groaned. "What now?"

Narcissa was watching her with narrowed eyes. "What do you want that muggle thing for anyway?"

"I'm getting rid of it, now _go away. _I'll see you tomorrow."

Andromeda ran up the stairs before Narcissa could say another word. The pen was tucked safely up into her sleeve. She crashed through the dormitory door and slammed it shut. The room was empty.

Andromeda could've slept there and then for all the relief that an empty dormitory gave her. She had fun with the other fifth year girls, of course, but you had to be on your guard. Some of them could've put Grandma Irma's eavesdropping to shame.

Andromeda sat down on her bed and examined the pen.

"How on earth..." she muttered to herself, but her eyes landed on the other end of the pen. A button?

She pressed it slowly, and the other end became even sharper as the nib extended.

Andromeda stared at it, fascinated.

What had Ted Tonks called it... boar-oink? It was boar-oink? _Ball-point!_

She held the pen up to her right eye and shut her left one. She examined it intensely. Sure enough, the end of the pen did resemble a tiny golden snitched embedded in the nib.

She ran her finger across it.

"Aah!"

the pen had drawn a wobbly line across the tip of her index finger. It didn't run or smudge. It just... stayed put.

Andromeda licked her other finger and rubbed at the pen line franticly, panicking. Within seconds, the line was gone.

Andromeda stared at disbelief at the pen. Was there ink in there? Surely, only a drop...

She shook the pen. No ink came out.

She lunged for her bedside table and grabbed a piece of parchment that she'd scrunched up: the remnants of an appalling Potions essay. She gave the pen one quick doubtful look before writing on the paper:

_My name is Andromeda Black._

She was amazed. Ink, but no ink.

_This is a pen!_

It still showed no signs of running out of ink!

She giggled at the writing. If only quills came with a lifetime supply of ink...

Then, a miserable thought came to her.

_This is Ted's pen._

He'd needed it, and now she understood why. Ink was expensive, as were quills. Particularly for someone of Ted's family's financial income. He was always wearing short jumpers and his shoes were always flapping and falling apart. His books were second-hand.

Andromeda rolled over onto her back and stared up at the top of her bed, where intricate carvings of medieval witches were shows slaying pathetic muggle women.

Andromeda sat up again, feeling heavy. Muggle-born or no muggle-born, she'd stolen from Ted. She had to give it back, and she had to make amens.

But not yet. The Triwizard champions were being selected tomorrow, and lessons would be cancelled. She hadn't a hope in hell of seeing Ted tomorrow. For now, she'd keep it safe.

She slid off her bed and knelt on the floor. She briefly listened out for any sounds of footsteps coming up the stairs. Satisfied that she was alone, she continued. She reached under her bed and pulled out her greatest shame...

A battered, tarnished tin box contained all of her muggle treasures. Odd contraptions, bits of nonsense, bits of paper and tickets to muggle habitats. All these things found discarded in Diagon Alley or lost or dropped in the Hogwarts corridors, much like Ted's pen...

She knew that the red squares of ghostly silhouettes of the Queen were stamps.. She'd studied them in second year. It was heart-breaking to hear her mother laugh at the prospect of her daughters studying Muggle Studies in third year as though they were mad. Of course, Andromeda had laughed along half-heartedly. Pain is always doubled when you have to hide it.

oOo

_A/N- Let me know what you think. This is my favourite fanfic that I am currently writing and it means ever so much to me._

_Also, do please follow me on Tumblr. The link is on my profile page. _

_Nel X_


	6. Into the Fire

As much as Andromeda always tried to convince Bellatrix that it was miserable to be hated, Bellatrix enjoyed being feared. It meant that she could manipulate the population of a room. More specifically, the Astronomy Tower.

Unassuming couples would venture up there for alone time. Bellatrix would scream in their faces until they were diving back down the trap-door.

Bellatrix stood by the railing, her arms around Lucy's tiny waist. She had been unabashedly staring at her for several minutes now. Her expression fascinated her. She was so naive, yet so maddeningly wise.

"You need a haircut," said Bellatrix at long last, rolling a twist of Lucy's platinum hair in her fingertips.

"Do you _want _me to get a haircut?" asked Lucy.

Bellatrix furrowed her eyebrows. "S'your hair, not mine."

Lucy smiled. "Then why did you tell me to get it cut?"

"Don't get sarky, Lucy. It doesn't suit you."

Lucy cocked her head to the side. "Your hair's rather long, too. Please don't cut it."

"Why not?" asked Bellatrix, a little defensively.

Lucy shrugged. "I like it."

Bellatrix's cheeks felt hot. "I don't care what you think."

Lucy smiled wisely, in that infuriating way. "Yes, you do."

"Well, well, we are getting quite presumptuous, aren't we..?"

As soon as Bellatrix's veins were flooded with the warm desire to be closer to her ditzy companion, Lucy was kissing her. It wasn't rushed or forceful, but Bellatrix was still taken by surprise when the entirity of Lucy's frame pressed against hers. She instinctively pushed her away.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing, just... _wrackspurts_," said Bellatrix, maintaining dry inward humour whilst still being flustered. As soon as she was composed, she grabbed Lucy's shoulders and pushed her backwards against the railing. She kissed her passionately.

She could tell Lucy was unnerved. Her tongue-movements were hesitant and her hands were placed clumsily on Bellatrix's sides. Within seconds, she recoiled.

"Bella..." she began.

Bellatrix rolled her eyes. "Don't start," she mumbled, before closing the gap between them once more.

Again, Lucy pulled back. She was now draped over the railing, trapped between it and Bellatrix.

"What is your _problem_?" asked Bellatrix.

"I'm not the one with the problem," Lucy said, her bottom lip pouting like a spoilt toddler. "You're the one with the problem."

"Ugh!" Bellatrix pushed off the railing and jumped away from her. "Just tell me what's wrong!"

Lucy hesitated as she slowly lifted her body from the brass railing, looking uncertain. Poor little raven... sad and ashamed. She'd not want to kiss anymore if she were sad and ashamed.

"Just... tell me. Properly, in normal words. I'll... I'll make it better."

Lucy cocked her head to the side, like a curious child.

"Are you ever going to admit that you love me?"

As though she'd spat her in the face, Bellatrix pulled a face of disgust before stomping over to her and grabbing her neck. Infuriatingly, Lucy was nonplussed.

"_Keep your voice down_!" she hissed. "People could hear you!"

Lucy rolled her eyes. "Bella, we have said and done many things up here."

Bellatrix snorted. "Don't remind me."

The humour left Lucy's eyes before she looked away. "I wouldn't dream of it."

Bellatrix scowled at her.

"You have to stop denying it, you know," said Lucy dreamily, after a prolonged silence. She turned to face Bellatrix again. "You want to be with me."

"No, I bloody don't!"

Despite herself, Bellatrix slumped onto the opposite banister and pouted. She refused to cry. She never, ever cried.

She heard Lucy's school skirt rustle as she sauntered over to her. She knelt in front of Bellatrix, trapping her in her gaze. Bellatrix felt naked, but not in a good way.

"Be with me, Bella."

"I'd rather fuck a hippogriff, thanks."

Lucy sighed. "You're running out of options. If you were with me, I'd make you happy."

Bellatrix raised an eyebrow and folded her arms. "Oh yeah? What makes you so sure of that?"

Bellatrix saw Lucy's face redden. She looked at her properly and saw that her eyes were glassy. "Because you make me happy."

She didn't know how to react, so simply let Lucy kiss her. They both silently communicated their discomfort at the dark future, but Lucy pressed for a response. When Bellatrix placed her hands on her shoulders, she was almost hopeful. Until...

"Stop," said Bellatrix firmly. "I've had enough."

Lucy's eyes widened in fear. "Enough?"

"I'm bored. I want to go."

Tears fell from her eyes, but still she looked relieved, if not morbidly so. "You'll be back. This time tomorrow, you'll be kissing me again. You can never stay away."

"Shut the fuck up," Bellatrix spat, reaching for her cloak. "I have a Champion selection to go to."

"...I was hoping I could sit with you today..."

Bellatrix let out a shrill laugh. "Really?! I don't think so, somehow. Do you?"

Lucy frowned. "I was only asking.

Bellatrix shrugged. "You belong with your little raven friends. You can bounce Potions notes off one another while you wait for the teachers to arrive."

Bellatrix kicked the trap door open. She began to descend the step ladder down to the stone corridor floor, forcing herself to keep her eyes down at all times.

The corridor was empty and cold. She could not hear Lucy's footsteps coming after her as she sauntered away.

She was suddenly struck with an uncomfortable feeling; a heightened sense of self-awareness. As the clock chimed three, classroom doors opened and students created a current into the heart of the school, all nattering and laughing. Bellatrix felt naked again, and it had something to do with her hair. She stroked the tendrils nervously, noting how long they were. She balked at her train of throught and shuddered as she forced them away.

oOo

The chill of imminent winter was starting to poison the air back in Buckinghamshire, where the land was much flatter and open than in the Highlands. Irma, despite her fondness of this county, found her home miserable. It was a Victorian house of substantial size, with comfortable furnishings and large displays of wealth peppered around her house. She was proud of her home.

However, the views from her windows were dismal. Whilst her son resided in a vast mansion surrounded by rolling hills, her house was placed inconspicuously on the edge of a rough patch of wild, overgrown woodland, which overshadowed a stretch of flat baron land. In the far distance was a motorway, where muggles drove their cars to and from the nearest muggle towns. It was a sick reminder that she was vulnerably surrounded by those that would banish her or alienate her or dissect her.

So, before her guest arrived, she stood on her patio and cast a concealment charm over the landscape. The motorway stretch would be invisible for a short while. Magic was might, but it was damn inconvenient at its best.

"Madame Lestrange, Mistress!" squeaked the house elf, Otto, which trembled at her ankle. Irma spun round, confident that old age, no matter how undignified, hid many emotions. Anxiety was one of them.

Fidelia Lestrange. How pretty. Long golden hair. Divine rose coloured dress. Youthful. Pretty.

"Ah, Mrs Lestrange. Welcome."

"It is an honour, Madam... this is most kind of you," said Mrs Lestrange, distracting Irma from her welling insecurities. She realised that Mrs Lestrange was smiling down at the spread of tea and sandwiches that Irma had made the elf prepare earlier.

"Oh, think nothing of it," Irma smiled primly. "Please, sit."

Two wrought-iron patio chairs had been placed either side of the little garden table to overlook the dreary heath. There was no better view, but sitting in a drawing room filled to the brim with antiques and valuables was far too common for Irma's tastes. She had to tread carefully with this one.

She smiled kindly as Mrs Lestrange before speaking. The woman returned that smile. She had such piercing green eyes.

"I've been meaning to invite you for tea for quite some time, now. Were you aware that we have mutual acquaintances in the West Country?"

"Oh?"

"Marcella Mulciber and I shared a tutor when we were girls. We were very close."

"How extraordinary. The Mulcibers are a very gracious family, I find."

"Indeed. Tea?"

"I'd love some, thank you."

The women fell into silence for a brief second while Irma poured tea from a black enamel pot into a china cup for Mrs Lestrange. The moment acted as a quick grace period for mental organisation for the two women. The sound of the haunting breeze and the trickling of the cup reminded Irma bizarrely of what was at stake here. Security. Future. Reputation.

Fidelia Lestrange seemed to hear Irma's thoughts.

"Madame Black..." began Fidelia with a kind voice. "not that I am utterly flattered by your invitation... but, might I inquire as to the nature of this meeting?"

Irma put the tea down. The woman was rather forward.

"May an elderly lady not embark on a friendship with a highly-regarded connection?"

The smile on Mrs Lestrange's face seemed to harden, like cooling candle wax. She blinked several times.

"Madame Black," she began again, her voice still soft and smooth as syrup. "I may be young, but I am not foolish. I know what you wish to ask of me."

Irma raised an eyebrow. "Is that so?"

Her face melted. The waxy permanence of her smile trickled away in the heat of the topic. "You want me to allow one of my sons to marry one of your son's brats."

A harsh wind ripped through the trees of the wild woodland.

"Excuse me?"

"Please don't mistake my impertinence for ingratitude, Madame Black," Mrs Lestrange sat up. "I am honoured that my boys are regarded as good matches for a Black. However, I've heard many things about your granddaughters; things I'm not comfortable with subjecting my sons to."

Irma pursed her lips, feeling the fragility of the conversation and becoming anxious. "Such as?"

Mrs Lestrange looked out onto the barren landscape. "I hear that the eldest is fiery and erratic. She is bad-tempered and careless. I hear that Andromeda is stubborn and an ill concept of magical standards. As for the young one... I sincerely doubt you wish to inflict her upon my boys, but I have heard of her poor behaviour. Do you know what they call her in London?"

Irma shook with fury. "I am not aware of any childish nicknames given to eleven year olds..."

Mrs Lestrange's eyes narrowed briefly. "They call her the Black Brat."

Irma inhaled sharply, suddenly grateful that Druella was not here to witness this exchange. She quickly placed her dainty china teacup back on its saucer for fear of shattering it.

"I have my connections to Hogwarts too, _Fidelia,_" spat Irma. "And when I enquired about your sons, I heard of the arrogance of one and the unintelligence of the other."

Mrs Lestrange's pale cheeks turned an unnerving shade of red.

"Like any grandmother, all I strive for is the easy expansion and continuance of my Noble House. I recall that when I proposed a reunion between my son and the Rosier girl, there could have been no two people in the word who hated each other more. Now, they are very much in love. The character of my sister-in-law is much improved. The eldest daughter's temperament is fiery indeed, but passionate. She is fearless and ambitious."

It was almost amusing. Irma spotted the signs of sudden satisfaction in Mrs Lestrange's expression.

"Andromeda is intelligent. She is a beauty. As for Narcissa, she may be selfish. She is a child. It is in a child's nature to be instinctive and oblivious to others."

Mrs Lestrange gave a small nod.

"Cygnus wants heirs. Grandsons will do. They are every father's dream, are they not?"

Mrs Lestrange smiled fondly.

"At Christmas you shall meet Bellatrix and you shall see that she is ample condition to provide such joys."

Mrs Lestrange seemed pensive. She sat back into her chair. "Bellatrix... is as beautiful as her sister?"

Irma thought carefully for a moment. "Andromeda's beauty is pure, like an infants'. Bellatrix has the beauty of a woman."

Mrs Lestrange smirked. "My sons have remarked on her feminine appeal more than once."

Irma swallowed. What a ghastly notion...

"At Christmas," continued Mrs Lestrange. "You will bring your relatives to dinner at our house."

Irma pursed her lips again. "Will I?"

"Yes. I would like to meet my daughter-in-law before the official nuptials, if I may."

The cool breeze teased the ladies' hair and dresses. The trees whispered serenely.

"You accept the proposal, then?"

"I do, Madame Black."

"Irma, dear. From now on, you must call me Irma."

oOo

By the time Lucy sidled in to the Great Hall, the Goblet of Fire was already glowing pink in anticipation for the first name to be withdrawn.

Lucy managed to tiptoe to the Prewett's crew unnoticed by everyone except Bellatrix. She's wondered where Lucy had gotten to, and she really had no interest in identity of the Norwegian champion.

The Goblet of Fire spat out a folded piece of paper, still singed and smoking as it fluttered down and landed in Dumbledore's hand. He looked severe as he opened the paper.

"The Miracantus champion is... _Milo Bevan_!"

There was uproar.

In the large group of students in forest green military jackets, people were shouting and gesturing wildly. A pale boy with straight dark hair stood up, looking as though he were about to be sick.

Behind Bellatrix, Jesper and Iago were cackling.

"What in name of Merlin's going on?" asked Bellatrix to Andromeda, who sat beside her. She shrugged and kept her eyes on the book in her lap. Bellatrix rolled her eyes.

Their cousin, Adelaide Rosier, sat looking smug on Bellatrix's other side.

"What's gotten into you, cousin?" asked Bellatrix dryly. "Why so proud?"

Adelaide leaned towards her. "Everyone at Miracantus was banking on the fact that one of the Ling brothers would be chosen. See that Chinese boy talking to Dumbledore?"

'Talking' was not the right word. A lean, wispy-haired boy was shouting aggressively at Dumbledore while one of the Miracantus teachers tugged at his arm, trying to drag him away.

"... that's Marvin Ling. He's been training for years. He's gone to all the wizarding in the world based on where his parents might thing the Triwizard Tournament would be held. And now it's _that _boy."

The official Norwegian Champion, Milo Bevan, walked with trembling legs up past the teachers' table and through the portrait hole, where he'd been told to wait.

"He'll be dead before the end of the first trial!" exclaimed Iago gleefully. Jesper grimaced at him as though he were being tactless.

The Goblet of Fire glowed pink again, silencing the rest of the room while a few disgruntled Norwegian students continued to babble.

An entire sheet of paper shot out of the fire. Dumbledore grabbed it, looking puzzled.

"The Guido De Luca champion is... _Leonora De Luca_!"

Apparently, Leonora was a demi-goddess.

The beautiful olive-skinned girl strode up to Dumbledore and shook his hand proudly, blushing at whatever he's told her. She sauntered away, through the portrait hole after Milo.

"Leonora De Luca..." Adelaide shook her head, looking amazed. "Her father must be the richest wizard in Italy..."

Bellatrix's head shot up, just before the girl disappeared.

The room went pink again.

A small scrunched-up bit of paper pinged from the cup and Dumbledore barely managed to grab it.

"The Hogwarts champion is_... Jesper Goyle_!"

Bellatrix might've questioned whether she'd heard him correctly, had the telltale silence of her friends not given that answer away.

Adelaide, Cassandra, Andromeda and Narcissa had turned round to stare at the new champion in their midst while the rest of Slytherin House cheered and snarled at the other houses. Bellatrix did not turn. She saw Fabian and Gideon Prewett with faces like thunder as their vast set of admirers tried to comfort them. Lucy sat at the edge, throwing a sympathetic lifeline to Bellatrix. It was the first time that Bellatrix contemplated beckoning her over.

Finally, when Jesper clambered down the bleachers past her, she looked at him. He wore the unmistakeable mask of feigned confidence, while fear permeated his entire body. He strode unconvincingly to Dumbledore and shook his hand, before striding past the teachers' table and through the portrait hole.

"There we have it!" cried Dumbledore. "Over the course of this year, our three champions will be tested in strength, bravery and wisedom. We ourselves will have our loyalties tested in turn. May the worthiest champion win!"

"Odd choice of words..." muttered Iago from behind her.

"_You..._" Bellatrix spun round to face him. His eyes widened in surprise at the anger in her face. "This is _your _fault."

"How did we come to that conclusion then, Bella?"

"You pressured him."

Iago laughed loudly. "Merlin's pants, Black, you're beginning to talk like a Hufflepuff!"

"Don't be disgusting," she spat. She swung her legs over the bench and stood on his one, coming face to face with him. "If I had my way with you..."

"Easy, Bella, I have a girlfriend..."

"Nobody actually believes that, you know!" interjected Adelaide.

"How come _you _didn't put your name in the Goblet of Fire, Iago?"

Iago's smug grin fell. He shrugged. "Who says I didn't?"

"YOU LYING BASTARD!" Bellatrix roared.

"Language, Miss Black..." droned a familiar voice. She whirled round. Mr Fogget was strolling past, looking bored by the entire event. "There are first years around."

He winked and swaggered past her, leaving Bellatrix scowling at his back.

She glanced at Lucy once more, whose platinum hair and huge blue eyes practically illuminated her corner of the hall. The concern she felt for Bellatrix would not be lost to anyone.

"Looks like you've got a new admirer, _Miss Black..._" hissed Narcissa with a grin.

"What?!"

Narcissa giggled.

"What was _that _supposed to mean?!"

"I was referring to lover boy, back there. Mr Fogget?"

Bellatrix stared wide-eyed at her sister, but still let the sense of alarm melt away.

"Calm down, Bella," said Andromeda. "She was only joking."

Bellatrix glared at those around her. Her nervous sisters, her confused cousins, her embarrassed friend and her fearful secret lover. Then, in the corner of her eye, her oblivious potential future husband, standing idly by the doors with his brother, waiting for their friends to catch up before they slipped away to the common room.

Realising that she was in a room with so many people who'd either fade away or come bursting into her life, she ran from the hall as quickly as her legs could carry her.

It would not be discovered 'til morning. On her bedside table lay a letter from her grandmother, detailing their dinner with the Lestrange family at Christmas and what they were due to discuss.

oOo

_A/N: Review etc..._

_Sorry I neglected Andromeda a bit here. She'll be back next chapter. _

_Nel X_


	7. Interactions

The following morning, the Hogwarts grounds were assaulted by a bitter frost, permeating the corridors with a biting chill. Pupils had donned their extra woolens and long johns in order to stay warm. At least the buzzing excitement of the upcoming trial kept people 's spirits high.

Andromeda was alone in one such corridor, sitting on an icy stone bench outside the Muggle Studies classroom, clutching her book. As per usual, she read it with the cover pressed to her legs. This was habit. Living among devout Slytherins, one learnt that despite their assumptions that one retained a sense of superiority from muggle borns. This did not mean that Andromeda could let her guard down. If anyone found out what she was reading... _filth._

It was difficult to read this morning. It was so cold, her woollen socks could not keep out the chill. Her legs bounced as she shivered.

"Miss Black?"

Andromeda slammed the book shut and leapt to her feet. Professor Fogget, lanky and tall and stiff-looking as ever, was approaching her from one end of the corridor. She held to the book closely to her, the title page against her stomach.

"Good morning, Professor," she said, teeth chattering embarrassingly.

He looked to the door of the classroom. "Muggle Studies not finished yet?"

"No, Sir."

"Hmm. Do you have the time?"

"I expect it's almost ten, Sir."

Fogget glanced at her, standing militantly with a solemn expression. He smirked. "Sit back down, Miss Black, I'm not going to rat on you."

Andromeda lingered, unsure of his words.

He smiled again, this time wider. "I'm not supposed to be wandering the corridors either."

Andromeda exhaled with relief, her warm breath turning to steam in the cold. She sat back down on the stone slab.

Fogget fastened his tweed jacket closer around his skinny frame. "May I join you?" he asked.

"By all means, Sir."

He walked over and sat down beside her. He hissed at the cold contact, which made Andromeda giggle.

"So," began Fogget, rubbing his hands together in the cold. "What brings an undeniably well-placed Slytherin student to the Muggle studies corridor at this time of the day?"

"I have something that belongs to a friend of mine. He dropped it yesterday. I'm returning it."

Fogget raised his eyebrows. "A friend who takes Muggle studies?"

Andromeda shrugged. "Each to their own."

Fogget chuckled. "Yes, I suppose."

"What about you, Sir? What brings you to Muggle studies when your forte is almost the exact opposite?"

Fogget paused for a moment before answering. "I have a meeting to arrange with Professor Burbage. It's... long overdue."

Andromeda pondered this, and decided she did not want to dwell on it. "I see."

"...What's this?" he asked suddenly.

He prised Andromeda's book from her hands before she'd even acknowledged what he was doing. As soon as his eyes fell on the cover, Andromeda's heart jolted.

"_The Works of John Donne,_" he read aloud. He looked at her and raised an eyebrow. "A muggle poet?"

"It's not mine!" said Andromeda quickly. "It's my friend's! It's the thing that they dropped!"

Fogget's face was void of emotion for a torturously long time. Panic rose in Andromeda's throat. She was preparing to plead and beg him to remain silent, but then he laughed warmly.

"You're a terrible liar, Miss Black," he handed the book back to her. "But I understand. Muggles may undeservingly oppressive and cruel, but they're not stupid. They produced some admirable works of literature."

Andromeda stared at him, astonished. "You think that?"

"I most certainly do. Good music, too."

A laugh escaped her. She sounded a little hysterical.

"You're not like the other Slytherins of your age," Fogget was suddenly rather solemn. "I predict that you'll pursue a path in life that is vastly different from your House peers."

Andromeda blushed. "You sound disappointed, Sir."

Fogget smiled half-heartedly. "As a Slytherin, I cannot condone rebellion against the old ways."

"Who said I was rebelling, Sir?"

"It doesn't matter. You may not think it's rebelling, but you'll soon find out that conforming to the expectations of your loved ones is the easiest option for people like us. Things will be asked of you, and I know you'll not like them. You'll resist."

"What... what will be asked of me, Sir?"

"A duty. But don't worry about it just yet. It'll be years yet."

Andromeda felt herself shrinking away from him, her skin growing warm with unease. "I'm not sure what you're talking about, Sir. Are you referring to... to what my sister's... being subjected to?"

Fogget looked right at her suddenly. "What do you mean by that?"

"Well... the rumoured arrangements for her and Rodolphus Lestrange."

Fogget stood up, looking alarmingly concerned. "Andromeda, what arrangements?"

"Th-th-the marriage!"

There was a long pause. Fogget stepped back, seemingly finding his reaction to be a little rash. He seemed in distant thought.

"I wasn't aware of that. No, that wasn't what I was referring to."

"Then what was it?"

"Hmm? Oh, it's no matter. I'm just talking jibberish. Ignore me."

Andromeda stared at him. In the past couple of weeks, nobody had regarded him as an eccentric. Andromeda felt that after this talk, she knew him better than most pupils at Hogwarts, and decided that he hid his eccentricity very well.

The classroom door suddenly burst open and the corridor flooded with noise and chatter. The corridor was soon teaming with students, and Andromeda leapt to her feet to try and find her target.

"I'll see you later for class, Miss Black!" Fogget shouted as he awkwardly bustled against the tide of students into the classroom. As he disappeared, Ted Tonks shuffled awkwardly through the crowd.

"TONKS!" Andromeda called, throwing herself in to the throng of students. "TED TONKS!"

The corridor was loud. She didn't give up. She kept elbowing her way through the students until she was directly behind him. She grabbed his shoulder.

He spun round and his eyes widened in what could be interpreted as dread. "Andromeda Tonks..." he said loudly, turning and coming to a halt in front of her. They now stood face to face in the hallway, causing the current of students to part around them. "Please leave me alone."

"I still have your pen."

"_I know. _ Unless you're planning on returning it to me, I want you to leave me alone." he said grumpily.

"Well, that's the thing..." she began, crossing her arms. "You'll get it back if you do as I ask."

Ted's jaw dropped. "Black, it's my effing pen! _Mine. _You stole it! If you don't give it back-"

"Oh calm down, Tonks, you'll give yourself a seizure."

"-I'll tell Dumbledore that you're a thief!"

"_Ted Tonks, will you bloody listen?!_"

He glared at her.

"I'll give it back to you later. Only... there are some things I want to ask you."

Ted furrowed his eyebrows and crossed his arms. "Such as?"

Andromeda looked around. People were scowling at her, assuming that she, a Slytherin and a Black, was picking on him. The odd comment about cruelty flew over her head.

"We can't do this here. Meet me in the owlery after dinner."

He looked at her sceptically. "Is this a trick?"

She rolled her eyes. "I'm not that sad, Tonks."

He swallowed awkwardly. "Okay... the owlery after dinner. _Then _will you give me my pen back?"

"Yes. But you have to promise me, _swear to me,_ that you won't tell anyone that we're meeting. Got that?"

"Er, yeah..."

"Good. I'll see you then. Don't forget."

oOo

The weather warmed up later that day. People began to brave the elements, and many students were beginning to populate the courtyard again. Bellatrix sat with Iago and Adelaide on a bench near the corner, while Adelaide droned on and on about Doreen Shunpike's alleged affair with a Ministerial worker. Bellatrix wasn't listening. She was glaring at the crooked tree in the centre of the courtyard, where Gryffindors hung from trees like tart fruit. Fabian and Gideon Prewett were sat together in the centre of attention, with little Molly Prewett smiling awkwardly at her new found admirers that began showering her with adoration when people realised her family ties. Nearby was Lucy, smiling and chatting happily to the Prewett girl. It made Bellatrix sick.

"There's going to be a ball," said Iago, out of nowhere.

"A what?" asked Adelaide, sounding rather affronted for being interrupted mid-story.

"It's called a Yule Ball. There's always a dance at Christmas as the host school of the tournament. We're meant to dance and everything."

"Merlin..." sighed Adelaide.

"Where's Jesper?" asked Bellatrix suddenly.

"I dunno," said Iago. "Moping. He's barely left the dorm all day."

Bellatrix sighed. "Whimpering in fear, I imagine."

Iago scoffed. "Cowardly little prick..."

Bellatrix stood up and spun round, scattering her books on the ground. "Hypocrisy doesn't suit you, Iago. You should retire from it."

Iago chuckled. "Easy, tiger! Someone got out of the wrong side of the bed this morning!"

Bellatrix scowled at him. "Actually, I take that back. Hypocrisy _does _suit you. You were born for it."

Iago rolled his eyes. "Are you _still_ angry about that?"

"It was an hour ago!"

"And time ticks by. Really, Bella, one would think _he's _the one your granny has set you up with."

Without hesitation, Bellatrix flipped her robe back and withdrew hew wand. Iago's smug grin dissolved as she pointed it at him.

"Cousin, dearest," drawled Adelaide from her perch. "Don't be melodramatic. It's very middle-class."

Bellatrix rolled her eyes. She was starting to perceive Adelaide as a cancerous addition to the group. She was irritating to the point of being poisonous, but showed no signs of going away.

"Black!" called a male voice from across the thawing courtyard. _"Black!_"

"Oh, here comes your better half..." said Adelaide wistfully. Bellatrix turned to see exactly what she hoped she would never see: Rodolphus Lestrange coming near her.

When Rodolphus Lestrange walked, he didn't simply walk. He glided. He arranged his cloak in a way that made it billow more than the usual student's. His broad shoulders made Bellatrix shudder.

"Black..." he repeated when he arrived at their bench. "Can I have a word?"

"Have two: _fuck off._"

Adelaide and some nearby witnesses cackled. Rodolphus gulped and tried again. "There's something I need to tell you."

Bellatrix feigned a swelling heart. "I love you too, my prince!"

She half expected Rodolphus to simply growl and retreat back to his beloved brother, but he did no such thing. Instead, he rolled his eyes and grabbed her forearm. "Come along, dear."

"What are you _doing_?!" she hissed as he dragged her into the school through the stone archway. "You're a fucking _animal_!"

"Speak for yourself, Black. Now, I need to ask you something."

"If I see you lower yourself onto one knee, I will rip your limbs off."

"_What_?"

"Nothing. Go on."

Rodolphus took a painful deep breath. He really was quite tall. He towered over Bellatrix. She fought the urge to shove him backwards.

"The first Hogsmeade visit's on Saturday. I was wondering if you'd accompany me."

Bellatrix stared at him blankly for a second before letting out a shrill laugh. Rodolphus grimaced. People in the corridor were staring at them.

"Well?" he demanded.

"_Well what_?" Bellatrix wheezed.

"Yes or no?"

Bellatrix sighed, her laughing fit over. She seemed to take a while to acknowledge Rodolphus' question. She mulled it over. She crossed her arms. "I'm not going to dignify that question with an answer, Lestrange."

"Why not?"

"Because even an inebriate troll would be able to tell that I am about as attracted to you as I am to a slug."

Rodolphus narrowed his eyes at her. "Careful, Bellatrix. You might hurt my feelings."

"Oh, in that case I'll continue. I won't be seen dead in public with you. You're a smug little mother's boy whose ancestors had to scrape the barrel of pureblood society to create a grovelling little Dark Arts fanclub to present as sacrifice to the Dark Lord."

Rodolphus' eyes widened in horror in the split second before he grabbed her arm and dragged her further into the shadows. Bellatrix did not struggle.

"_Are you insane?_!" he hissed. "_Someone could hear us!"_

"I'm surprised you care, Lestrange. Surely the trust of the Dark Lord is as precious to you as your whopping inheritance."

"You're one to talk, Black..." he growled, looking straight at her.

Bellatrix swallowed. "I'm not going to Hogsmeade with you."

Rodolphus rolled his eyes. "We might as well start somewhere."

"I've no idea what you mean."

Rodolphus clenched his jaw. From his pocket, he produced a piece of paper. "This is a letter I received by owl from my mother. She says we're spending Christmas together, so that... " he trailed off, looking at her pointedly.

Bellatrix's stomach lurched. She stared at the letter in his hand with a fury that she'd never felt before.

"Burn it."

"What?"

"You have to burn the letter."

"What good would that do?"

"If you pretend you never received the letter, she might delay the engagement and give me more time to find someone better."

Rodolphus grimaced. "Charming..."

"You might have to kill your owl, too."

"Look, why can't you just face the facts? At Christmas, a ring will be forced into my hand and I'll be shoved onto the floor in front of you."

"Eurgh, please..." she began to retort, but she was distracted. Molly Prewett came lolloping down the corridor, having retreated back inside momentarily to fetch something. When Bellatrix saw her approach, she grinned and stuck her foot out.

Inevitably, Molly Prewett tripped over it and smacked the stone floor.

"Be more careful, Tangerine," Bellatrix deadpanned when Molly rolled over. Her eyes widened. She clumsily scrambled to her feet.

"Sorry..." she muttered.

"No problem. Off you go!" said Bellatrix cheerily, waving to her as she ran away, clutching her pounding head.

"That was malicious," said Rodolphus casually.

"You think so? Write it down in a reply to your mother. She might think twice..."

"_Bellatrix_,"

"Don't call me that. We're strangers."

Rodolphus barked a laugh and folded his arms. "I'm your husband-to-be, _Bella_. I'll have to get used to not calling you _Black_ anymore."

"Bite me."

"With pleasure."

Bellatrix scowled at him. "This isn't happening," she told him. "I'll speak with my mother. We're sixteen. This doesn't have to happen."

Rodolphus raised an eyebrow as she walked away from him. "You think your mother has a say in any of this?" he called after her. She heard him, but chose to ignore him.

oOo

_A/N: 'Allo there. Review, if you may. I'd love some. _

_Salutations,_

_Nel._


	8. Modest Proposals

Bellatrix was sure that nobody had noticed she was there, alone, in the library. She never studied, and was rarely seen in school without Jesper and Iago. She was safe to write a letter. Nobody would read over her shoulder, which was always a danger in the Slytherin common room.

_Mother,_

_ I am prepared to speak bluntly to you, if you will offer me the same kindness. You are the reason I have a heart of ice. Do not despair (as I'm sure you won't). It is a strength for which I am grateful. Love and trust might gladden the soul, but it weakens the brain. I am strong. You know this. So_

Bellatrix looked up, cautiously peering around her. There was a gaggle of first years several feet away, sitting around a desk scribbling on parchment. Other than that, she was alone.

_You know this. So I would hope that it would move you to hear of my despair, when Rodolphus Lestrange dragged me away from my studies to inform me of our imminent engagement. _

_ I'm in danger of feeling helpless out here, while you and his insipid family plot our futures. Surely such plans would be much more clean-cut if Rodolphus and I were there to oversee them?_

Oversee. That would have to do. If she'd used the word "negotiate", her mother would seethe.

_ Talking of such matters via owl seems so ridiculous that I am starting to doubt whether these plans are going ahead. If I have misjudged the situation, forgive me. However, your last letter to me suggested that my fate was being plucked from my hands and passed over to someone else. Fidelia Lestrange seems to be under the impression that we'll be playing Happy Families at Christmas already, which I know is absurd. _

_ Make Granny see sense. The Lestranges are embarrassing by association. _

_ Bellatrix Black._

She skilfully folded the letter as quickly as she could and loudly strode out of the library, no longer caring who saw her.

She found her majestically large tawny owl in the owlery and thrust the addressed letter into its beak. It whooshed out of the window and soared downwards to fly through the valley, southwards. Just before she left, a name tag on an owl hole caught her eye. _Lestrange_. She barely clapped eyes on the bird before pointing her crooked wand at it, muttering "Avada Kedavra" and leaving for the common room.

oOo

The Slytherin table in the Great Hall was packed with hungry students. At the end of the long table, a large group of enviably attractive students from the Guido De Luca school were eating barely anything. They were looking up and down the table, observing their competitors. Andromeda would be lucky to get passed all these students without looking suspicious. She was glad to stow her satchel away under the bench when she sat down for dinner. She'd have to eat quickly...

"Is it true?" Andromeda heard a voice ask. She looked up. Narcissa stood there, flanked by April Zabini and Ruthie Knott, looking scared.

"Is what true?" asked Andromeda, kicking her satchel further under the bench.

"Is Rodolphus Lestrange our brother-in-law?"

The bubbling chatter of Slytherin table froze as faces turned towards them. People listened nosily.

"No," said Andromeda firmly. "It is not true."

Dinnertime chatter picked up again. Cissy breathed a sigh of relief.

"That's not what I hear," said April Zabini from behind her. "My brother's in the Lestranges' dorm and _he _says he hears them whisper about it _all the time_!"

"Listen, you..." Andromeda growled, leaning forward. "I don't know why you listen to your brother, or why your brother listens to the Lestrange boys... but it's not true. My sister's not engaged to anyone, so pack it in."

April looked at Cissy expectantly. Cissy, in return, looked over her shoulder at her friends. "Leave us," she commanded.

Andromeda raised her eyebrows. She really was more like Bellatrix than her...

April scowled at Andromeda as she dragged Ruthie away. Cissy clambered over the bench and sat down, snatching the salad bowl from under Doreen Shunpike's nose. She gave Andromeda a disapproving look.

"What?" shrugged Andromeda. "It's none of their business!"

"It doesn't matter. It'll be everyone's business soon enough. I was hoping I'd get to find out before everyone else."

Andromeda scoffed. "Why? Because spreading gossip is how people become popular at this school? You're better than that, Cissy." She grabbed a handful of salad from Cissy's bowl.

Cissy suddenly looked rather angry. "I wanted to find out first because Bellatrix is my sister just as much as she is yours and I worry about her."

The hall fell silent.

Andromeda turned round, knowing full well who'd entered the common room.

Bellatrix glared at each student individually, as though challenging them, before greeting her sisters.

"I want a word with you," she said, sitting down next to Cissy. Andromeda saw Cissy look at her in her peripheral, but chose to ignore her. It was best to avoid making Bellatrix feel as though she was outnumbered.

Andromeda noticed Ted Tonks stand up from the Hufflepuff table and hurriedly exit the hall. All the while, appraising the Slytherin table. She bit her lip anxiously.

"I need to tell you two something..." began Bellatrix calmly.

"So it's true!" exclaimed Cissy.

Bellatrix stared blankly at the younger girl. "Excuse me?"

"Ignore her and get on with it," said Andromeda, intentionally sounding impatient. It had the desired effect. Bellatrix forgot about Cissy and raised an eyebrow at Andromeda. She stared for a long second before continuing.

"Mother has been... _encouraging_ me to assess my options for when I leave Hogwarts. As such... I have been thinking a lot about my future..."

"Oh for Merlin's sake, Bella," groaned Andromeda. "There's no need to sugar-coat it!"

Bellatrix glared at her sister again before surrendering, slumping back into her seat with a sigh. "Fine. Mother's arranging my marriage to Rodolphus Lestrange."

Neither of Bellatrix's younger sisters said anything for a long time.

"Don't you have a choice?" asked Cissy quietly. "She can't _make _you marry him. Not if you don't want to."

Bellatrix merely chuckled.

"How can this be happening?" asked Andromeda in disbelief. "I thought it was a ridiculous rumour. What has she told you?"

"Only that I have no choice in the matter. Back in the holidays, Granny asked me to get to know the Lestranges."

Andromeda and Cissy grimaced. Once Irma Black was involved, there was really no getting out of it.

"I'm expecting a letter from Mother any minute. Apparently Mrs Lestrange has been badgering Rodolphus to court me."

Andromeda smirked, as did Bellatrix.

"But... you're sixteen!" exclaimed Cissy. "Why are you getting married now?!"

Bellatrix shrugged. "I've no idea. I can only assume that Father's pulled a stupid stunt at work and is worried about his money. The sooner I'm married, the sooner Father has a new bunch of allies to bail him out of tight corners."

Cissy chewed her lip. "I didn't think he cared about that stuff."

"What stuff?"

"Our futures," she said darkly.

Bellatrix smirked again. "This is nothing to do with my future. It's about _his _future. It's about _his _money and _Granny_'s reputation and _Mother's _contentment. It's got nothing whatsoever to do with me."

"What does Rodolphus say?" asked Andromeda.

Bellatrix grinned. "As I said. He's been told to court me, and earlier on today he actually tried to."

The girls' eyes widened, as did their smiled. Bellatrix launched into the anecdote, delighting in making her sisters laugh. She didn't even falter in her storytelling when Rodolphus and Rabastan walked into the hall and took up their usual positions near the top end of the table. They were forced to sit closer to the Black sisters, what with the Italian students having usurped their positions...

"You should say 'yes' to him next time he asks you!" giggled Cissy. "That'd teach him!"

Bellatrix wrinkled her nose. "He won't ask again. I scared him off. Besides, I'd rather contract a fatal disease. Oi, stop looking at him!" Bellatrix tapped Cissy on the shoulder and she spun back round. Rodolphus was glaring over at the Black sisters' end of the table, where Cissy had been unashamedly watching him over her shoulder.

"What?" Cissy shrugged. "He'll be my brother-in-law soon enough. I'm just smiling to my fellow family member!"

Bellatrix kicked her under the table, but they both giggled. That's when Bellatrix noticed Andromeda looking round at the hall anxiously.

"You've gone a bit quiet, Andromeda. Something the matter?"

"No, no..." she said quickly. "What time is it?"

Bellatrix shrugged, looking puzzled. "I don't know. WHAT TIME IS IT?!" she barked at the hall, which dipped in volume. Andromeda and Cissy cringed into their seats.

"Twenty minutes to seven!" called out a nervous second year.

"There you go. It's..." Bellatrix began to say, but she trailed off.

Cissy looked bewildered. "Are... you okay?"

"I have to go."

Andromeda looked alarmed. "You do? Where to?" she gulped.

"I have to check if Mother's replied to my owl."

"Oh...kay..." muttered Andromeda, still looking round anxiously at the hall. She seemed relieved to see people leaving dinner to go back to their common rooms.

"Andromeda, what are you doing?"

"Hmm? Nothing! Nothing, I just... I lost my potions book today and I think I might've left it here at lunch. I'm... looking for it."

Cissy narrowed her eyes at her. "Maybe you should check the potions classroom..."

"Good idea!" said Andromeda quickly. "I'll go there now!"

Bellatrix, who was by now rather bored of her sisters' nonsense, was already sprinting from the room. Andromeda was quick enough to notice that Leonora De Luca and a small huddle of other Guido De Luca students were leaving the room gracefully, just ahead of Bellatrix.

oOo.

Bellatrix was never caught by prefects. If anything, _they _were the ones hiding from _her._

By the time she'd caught Leonora De Luca alone in an empty corridor with no-one but her friends, she permitted herself a sly grin.

"DE LUCA!" she shouted.

All five Italians whirled round, the long hair of the girls wafting majestically through the air. Leonora stepped through her gang of friends and gave Bellatrix a curious look. If Bellatrix wasn't already powered by ambition by now, she may have been intimidated by the tall, olive-skinned angel.

"Sí?"

"Do you speak English?" Bellatrix asked immediately, knowing the answer.

Leonora's friends, two boys and two girls, sniggered behind her.

"Of course."

Good. She'd listen.

"I just wanted to wish you luck for the first challenge on Saturday. I've heard the challenges get progressively worse. Are you worried?"

Something flickered in Leonora's eyes. She tilted her head slightly and narrowed her eyes at Bellatrix, as though analysing here.

"I am prepared. You are curious, _Serpente_?"

Her accent was strong. Her friends giggled.

Bellatrix began to walk towards her. "What did you call me?"

To Bellatrix's surprise, Leonora smiled with no hint of malice. "Snake. De houses of Hogwarts are... hmm... _rappresentante dell'anima, _no? You are in de Snake house, you are snake."

Bellatrix stood still and crossed her arms. She couldn't fault that analogy. Leonora's minions were annoying though.

"Do they have houses at Guido De Luca?" asked Bellatrix. As she spoke the school name, a chill ran through her, reminding her of her mission.

"Of course."

"Which one are you in?"

"Impavidus."

The two Italian boys whooped and the girls giggled and grinned. Bellatrix glared at them, quickly memorising their faces.

"...which is?" she asked.

Leonora smiled. "Fearless."

Despite herself and her growing disdain for Leonora's deputies, she smirked amusedly.

Bellatrix kept her gaze locked with Leonora's. She was really rather pretty...

"Well... as I said, I just hoped to wish you luck before glory swept you up in her arms."

Leonora seemed to understand the words better than Bellatrix did. As such, she took further steps towards Bellatrix, away from her suspicious friends.

"You have little fait in your snake boy... hmm... Jesper?" she said quietly, but not softly. Her gaze was intense.

Bellatrix shrugged. "He's my friend."

"You do not deny what I ask."

"No, I don't."

There was a pregnant pause. Leonora was clever. She knew she was waiting for something.

Bellatrix felt herself getting annoyed that this girl was taller than her. It was unusual to be looked down upon by another student.

She took a deep breath. "If I'm going to place my bets on a champion, I need to know that they're a good investment."

Leonora raised an eyebrow. "You are asking me to succeed... for your money?"

Bellatrix rolled her eyes. "Metaphorically, yes. Jesper Goyle is not strong, nor is he particularly bright. That Norwegian boy will be dead before the end of the first trial. As for you..."

"I understand," said Leonora sharply. "You want to be seen to support de right cause."

Bellatrix shrugged. "Wouldn't you, if you were me?"

Leonora tilted her head again and thought. "Hmm..." She moved. She began to circle Bellatrix. Bellatrix clamped her jaw shut. _Be careful, girl..._

"If I were you... if I were _De Furioso Bellat-a-riz Black..._ I would have much pressures... much _dipendenza..._ I suppose I understand what you say, _Serpente."_

Leonora came back round to face her, with a calm expression on her face. Bellatrix's was different.

"You know who I am?"

Leonora smiled. "Of course... _Caro Bella...Mio padre _knows of de work of de noble Cygnus Black and his preaching for de sanctity of magic..._" _she paused, and gave Bellatrix a strange look. "My two brothers, also, are fascinated by de work of de House of Black..."

Bellatrix knew that Leonora could see initiative sparkling in her eyes. Marrying a De Luca, with money and power would surely put the efforts of her mother to shame. She could present her new marital ideas to her father and grandmother and be done with the Lestrange's.

Bellatrix made an effort to keep a poker face. "I don't speak Italian, darling, please refrain from using it."

Leonora feigned shock. "I am offended, Bella! My modder tongue is de language of love!"

Bellatrix gagged. "How you churn the stomach, De Luca. You still haven't given me an answer."

Leonora's looked puzzled. "An answer to what?"

"My proposal."

"_What _proposal?"

"...ah, yes, I forgot. Erm..." she didn't like being flustered. "I'd like us to form an alliance."

Leonora let out a loud laugh. Her friends joined in, nervously. "Perfetto! And also our _padres _can duel on de backs of 'ippogriffs for de honour of deir daughters, no?"

Bellatrix didn't understand. She crossed her arms, not liking talk of conflict initiated on her father. "What are you insinuating, De Luca?"

Leonora smiled warmly. "_Niente._ But if it is friendship you are asking for, _Caro Bella..._ it is granted."

Leonora glided towards her and took Bellatrix's face in her hands. Bellatrix held her breath. Leonora kissed her on both cheeks, grinned and sauntered back over to her friends, who had begun to walk down the corridor.

Bellatrix stood stunned for a few seconds before digesting her words. "Hang on a minute!" she barked, feeling her body click into the comfortable stance of fury. "I don't get _granted_ things! I'm a Black! I TAKE WHAT I WANT!"

Leonora laughed loudly again and turned back round to face her. "Of course! I forget de ways of _De Serpente Furioso_! _Mi amico¸ _I am sorry!"

She laughed again, and the Italians disappeared round the corner.

oOo

She'd be late. He'd leave. She'd be late. He'd hate her. She'd lose her chance.

Andromeda had had no choice but to lie awake in bed until the entire common room was cleared of Slytherins. No-one could follow her. It was alright for Bellatrix: no-one would dare spy on her, for fear of being killed. But Andromeda was known as "The Grey One" within Slytherin, as she was the most watered-down Black family member there had ever been in that house. She wasn't snappy or malicious. She didn't flaunt her quick wit. She barely participated at all.

As she ran down the staircases and corridors of Hogwarts, she stopped every few yards or so to listen for footsteps. Specifically, Bellatrix's footsteps.

She spotted him standing by the archway to the exterior staircase, looking out at the lake. She cleared her throat. He balked and turned round. He composed himself.

Then, to her utter shock, he smiled at her.

"This is a bit dangerous, isn't it?" he grinned. "For a pen, at least. Do you have it?"

Andromeda rolled her eyes. "Of course I do. I promised, didn't I?"

Ted shrugged. "Yeah, I guess."

"Wait," she said firmly, with her hand clasped around the pen in the pocket of her robes. "Did you tell anyone that we're here?"

"Nope. So you could murder me if you want."

"Don't tempt me. This is top secret. I will stop at nothing to keep it that way."

"No need to be dramatic, I was just lightening the mood."

It occurred to Andromeda that she rarely fraternised with students outside of Slytherin. One of her deepest darkest secrets was the fact that the Sorting Hat had been seconds away from declaring her a Ravenclaw, until Andromeda had silently pleaded with it to place her into Slytherin. In her house, it seemed that people were programmed to act solely for the purpose of achieving their ambitions, rather than to serve or please.

Perhaps if Andromeda had been placed in Ravenclaw, she'd be friends with people like Ted Tonks. Perhaps _she'd _be telling jokes for the sake of cheering up her friends, rather than to steer the conversation away from intrusive topics. That thought whirled in her gut.

"Here," she said, pulling the pen out. "But first, I want to ask you some questions."

Rather than looking impatient, Ted merely looked curious. "Okay... what sort of questions?"

Andromeda took a deep breath. "Remember your promise?"

Ted rolled his eyes. "Yes, yes, if I tell anyone we met, you'll hex the magic out of me. So go on... ask me."

Something about his wording made Andromeda struggle to remember what she was going to say.

Andromeda took a deep breath and placed the pen on a nearby ledge. She pulled her satchel round to her front. She could feel Ted watching with intrigue as she rifled around in her bag for one of the many things she owned which could destroy her reputation in the wizarding world.

"I want to know..." another deep breath. "I want to know... what this is."

She pulled out the peculiar bulky box-type object, wrapped in absurdly stiff string. She held it out to him.

Ted did not seem to see it as a dangerous object. He blinked a few times and looked up at her. "It's a cassette player."

Andromeda stared at him blankly, trying not to look confused or at all disappointed in his answer. She'd have to remember the words and go on a hunt in the Muggle Studies section of the library. Alone.

"Okay..."

"...do you know what it does?"

"Yes. The two circle bits inside rotate when you press one of the buttons."

Ted smiled. "Yes, but that's not it."

"Some of them make it go really fast, some of them really slowly."

He smiled again. Always smiling... Andromeda wasn't used to it. She'd spent her whole life around people who were too preoccupied or focused to smile. Children smiled. That's what she knew. She missed smiling for the sake of it. She missed kind smiles.

"What do you think it's for?" asked Ted curiously.

"I don't know."

"Guess!"

"What for?"

Ted shrugged. "Fun. Go on, guess!"

Andromeda frowned. "No. You'll laugh."

Ted chuckled anyway. "Probably."

"Then I don't want to guess!"

He chuckled again. "I won't make fun of you! Imagine giving a wand to a muggle and asking _them _what it's for."

She saw Ted analyse her expression. His eyes widened. "Sorry, sorry, didn't, er, mean to."

Andromeda blinked, startled. "Why do you say that?"

"You looked like you were about to strangle me."

"I wasn't going to..."

"I know, but you looked angry."

"I wasn't angry!"

Ted gulped. "Okay..."

Andromeda found herself to be inexplicably hurt. Hadn't she spent the majority of her adolescent life telling Bellatrix to be kinder? To calm down?

Ted stood much further back now, wearing a cautious expression, as though having found himself trapped in an enclosure with a hungry jaguar.

Andromeda sighed. "Is it for winding thread?"

Ted came back into focus. "Huh?"

"You know... re-winding up thread or wool when it unravels. That's all I can imagine it does."

Ted studied her closely, before smirking, as though he'd learnt a fascinating fact. "That's... a good guess. But no."

Andromeda frowned, her cheeks feeling hot.

"It plays music."

Her head snapped upwards. "It does _what_?!"

"It plays music," Ted explained with a detectable smile. "You put a cassette inside it and put those things-" he pointed to the big curvy ear-muff things at the end of the string. "-over your ears and press play. A cassette is like a record."

Andromeda, puzzled, glanced down at the square box.

"It doesn't _look_ like a record but it acts like one."

Andromeda appraised the ear-muffs with apprehension. "Won't it hurt your ears to listen to music so close?"

Ted smiled. "You can't hear the music unless you wear the headset."

Headset. Record. Cassette. Player.

She couldn't fight the broad grin that spread across her face. Her little genius box... another marvellous thing that had fallen through the cracks into her world. _Another_ muggle invention that did not cease to amaze her.

Private Music.

"It's amazing..." she whispered in awe, turning it over in her hands.

"It's, um..." began Ted, suddenly sounding less jovial than before. She looked up at him. He was looking at the floor. "It's a muggle thing."

Rather than act confused, she smiled at him. It warmed her heart to do so. "You sound as though you expect me to smash it on the ground."

Ted looked up and smiled half-heartedly. "I'm surprised you haven't already."

Andromeda kept her smile, but digested the hurt that his comment brought. "My sisters would have. My sisters would've obliterated it with magic. Then again, they wouldn't have even arranged to meet you. They wouldn't even _have _this."

Ted cocked his head to the side. "Why _do _you have it?"

"I found it," she lied. "it was in the road near my house."

Ted looked doubtful, but said nothing. "So... you don't have any cassettes then."

"I think I'd know if I did."

Ted chewed the inside of his cheek and looked away, out into the view of the mountains through the archway.

"I could lend you some," he said quietly. "I have plenty at home. I can ask my mother to send me some."

Andromeda's eyes lit up. "Really?"

Ted shrugged. "If you wanted to." He glanced at her then, and smirked. "If you'd give them back once you're finished with them."

Andromeda gasped and grabbed the pen, which was still sitting on the ledge. "Here! I'm so sorry..."

Ted took it with a grateful grin. "It's okay. It's just a pen. They're not endangered."

Andromeda laughed.

"Do you have other muggle stuff?" Ted asked.

"Yes! I have loads! I have..." she hadn't quite recognised the tone with which he spoke.

"Why do you have muggle stuff? I thought..."

"I should go," she said quickly.

"No!"

She stared at him, shocked. He stared back, wide-eyed and almost fearful for a split second before regaining composure and shoving his hands inside his pockets. "I can tell you what they all do. You know, what they're for. If you want."

It was incredible, really, how such a simple proposal could move a girl from such a notoriously cold-hearted corporation. He had nothing to gain. If anything, he was risking life and limb for insulting Bellatrix Black.

Andromeda's heart ached for him; the naive and kind Hufflepuff boy. She also lamented her own happiness. Nothing would give her more pleasure than to indulge her secret obsession: muggle life. She had hoped, long ago, that she could wait until adulthood to escape the beady gaze of her family to be her true self, but she could not escape the Black curse of impatience.

She bit her lip. "I don't know."

Ted sighed. "I told you I wouldn't tell anyone. I won't."

"Why not?"

Ted shrugged. "Why would I?"

Andromeda grimaced. "This encounter would be the talk of the school if anyone found out."

"Why would I want that?"

"To get revenge."

"On who?"

"My family."

Ted rolled his eyes. Andromeda's cheeks flared up again.

"That's stupid," he told her earnestly. "If you want, I'll swear on my own life that I won't tell anyone."

Andromeda said nothing. She felt unsafe and unstable, as though the floor beneath her was glass, or she'd caught a glimpse of a knife in Ted's hand.

"Look," he posed. "If I said to you that I was going to be sitting alone underneath the bleachers of the quidditch pitch on Saturday after the First Challenge, and that I wouldn't object to any unannounced company... what would you say?"

Andromeda tried to closely analyse the expression of Ted in the way that Bellatrix always did. She was brilliant at it, a masterful interpreter of concealed emotions, a skilful translator of communicative movements under skin masks. Andromeda was useless. All she could see was amiability. That couldn't be true. She was Andromeda Black. Nobody was kind to her.

"Why are you doing this?" she asked finally.

Ted shrugged again. "To be friendly."

He came towards her and she gasped, leaping back and scraping her hip painfully against an owl perch. She felt her cheeks grow even redder when she realised that he'd only been trying to get past her, to leave.

_oOo_

_A/N: Thanks for following/reviewing etc - will update soon._

_If you follow me on Tumblr, I've created a new one. Go to my profile for deets. BYE :D_


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